


Sink or Swim

by notionally



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Swimming, Because of course he does, Bickering, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Jaebum swims the butterfly, M/M, Rivalry, Rivals, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notionally/pseuds/notionally
Summary: “What about the time you threw your goggles at him, after he beat you in the relay?”Jinyoung turns his death glare from Jaebum – who’s now taking a swig from his water bottle – to Mark. “That wasone time,” he says aggressively, “and I didn’tthrowthe goggles at him, I was gesticulating and theyslipped.”aka the university competitive swimming au that needed to exist so I wrote it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [moodboard](https://twitter.com/notionxally/status/1065360288034316288)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> with thanks to [cel](https://twitter.com/yugbammr) ([ryliner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryliner/pseuds/ryliner)) for talking to me about swimmer au and therefore helping birth this fic into the world

 

The air smells, as it always does, like sweat and chlorine. Jinyoung sits on the bleachers, rolling his shoulders back, tilting his head from side to side, trying to get the tension out of his muscles. Hyunwoo is frowning and saying something to Hyolyn – team captain stuff, Jinyoung guesses. He can’t be bothered trying to figure out what they’re talking about, just stretches out as he stifles a yawn.

He’s been to countless swim meets before, of course, but still he can’t get used to the amount of noise that echoes against the vaulting ceilings, the chatter of hundreds of swimmers, brimming with adrenaline and nerves. It’s far too much noise to be enduring this early in the morning.

A couple of rows down from him, Bambam is lying down with his head in Yugyeom’s lap, the two of them playing some sort of game that seems to involve Yugyeom dangling his fingers in Bambam’s face, and Bambam trying to bite them. Weird, but then again, not unusual for the two of them. Jinyoung just wishes they would be a little quieter about it.

He’s half-contemplating whether he should just take a nap, like Youngjae’s doing at the moment, sprawled out across the benches, his team jacket rolled up and covering his eyes like a makeshift sleep mask, when Mark drops unceremoniously into the seat next to him.

“He’s here,” Mark says, quietly, like he’s sharing top-secret information.

Jinyoung doesn’t have to ask to know who Mark’s talking about, but he pretends anyway. “Who’s here?” he asks. But Mark knows that he knows, so he ignores the question completely.

“I was talking to Youngjae – Yoo Youngjae, not sleepyhead over here – and he told me which events Jaebum’s swimming in,” Mark continues.

Jinyoung doesn’t care, he really doesn’t. “100 metre and 200 metre butterfly, presumably,” he answers flatly. Jaebum’s usual events. Though they’re from different universities, different swim teams, they’ve swum in the same competitions enough times for Jinyoung to know this.

Mark nods, but doesn’t stop giving Jinyoung that look. Like he’s desperate to tell him something but also afraid of how he might react.

“Yes, but that’s not all,” he says, cajoling, as if whatever bad news – Jinyoung presumes it’s bad news from the look on Mark’s face – will be less bad if Jinyoung guesses it himself.

Jinyoung plays along. “I suppose he’s swimming last leg of the free relay?” The freestyle relay is their main source of competition, because Jinyoung – as the best freestyle swimmer in the team – is always the last leg of the relay as well. And, to his utter dismay, he’s lost to Jaebum more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, and the individual medley,” Mark says, and Jinyoung rolls his eyes. He’s about to make a snide comment about overachievers but it becomes clear that Mark isn’t done talking. “But that’s not it,” he adds, scrunches up his nose, “he’s also swimming the fifty free.”

Jinyoung gapes at Mark for a second. The fifty metre freestyle is one of _his_ events. It’s not like the relay, which Jinyoung sort of grudgingly accepts is a team event. But this – this is intruding directly on Jinyoung’s territory.

“Are you fucking serious?” snaps Jinyoung irritably. His eyes dart around the cavernous swimming hall, from the main competition pool to the smaller warm-up pools, scanning the faces on the bleachers, trying to spot Jaebum. His rival. His nemesis. His archenemy. “How dare he?”

Mark shrugs. “I was shocked too, when Youngjae told me,” he says, looking much more relaxed now that he’s passed this information on. “I tried to figure out if his captain assigned it or if he asked to swim it, but Youngjae wouldn’t say.”

Jinyoung spots Jaebum standing by one of the warm-up pools, in his university’s blue and white tracksuit. He’s near his team, but not really talking to any of them, just stretching his arms out silently. “I bet he asked for it,” says Jinyoung, glaring venomously at Jaebum, even though Jaebum’s not even looking at him. But he focuses on sending bad vibes Jaebum’s way. “He’s just trying to spite me.”

“I doubt he’s trying to spite you,” Mark says coolly. He raises an eyebrow at Jinyoung. “Now – I only told you this because it’s better for you to find out now than when you get up on the blocks together. Don’t go picking a fight with him.”

“I would never,” sniffs Jinyoung, scowling.

But Mark just looks disbelieving. “What about the time you threw your goggles at him, after he beat you in the relay?”

Jinyoung turns his death glare from Jaebum – who’s now taking a swig from his water bottle – to Mark. “That was _one time,”_ he says aggressively, “and I didn’t _throw_ the goggles at him, I was gesticulating and they _slipped.”_

“Jeez, okay,” grumbles Mark, holding his hands out. “You get so touchy whenever someone brings Jaebum up – no wonder Jackson didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

“Jackson – what?” Jinyoung swivels his head round to find Jackson sitting in the front row of the bleachers, craning his neck round to peer at them. When he sees Jinyoung looking at him, he beams and presents two thumbs-up.

Mark pinches Jinyoung’s cheek, quickly retracting his hand before it can get swatted away. “We played rock paper scissors for it,” he says lightly. “Not our fault you have a stick up your arse when it comes to Im Jaebum.”

“I do not have anything up my arse!” shouts Jinyoung.

In response to this, Mark’s eyebrows fly up, and then he starts laughing. Jinyoung’s about to ask what exactly is so funny when he realises Mark’s not looking _at_ him, but _behind_ him.

Jinyoung turns round, and of course Jaebum’s standing there, baggy tracksuit hanging off his stupidly broad butterfly-stroke swimming shoulders, hands shoved into his pockets, looking half-awkward, half-amused. The latter presumably at Jinyoung’s outburst, but Jinyoung isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how mortified he is.

“What do you want?” is what Jinyoung says, instead, sharply, getting to his feet in an attempt to feel less cowed by Jaebum’s size.

If Jaebum is taken aback by the hostility in Jinyoung’s voice – though he has no reason to be, given that Jinyoung has been nothing but curt to him in the few interactions they’ve had – he doesn’t show it. Just nods his head politely at Jinyoung. Grumpily, Jinyoung returns the gesture.

“I just came to let you know – I’m going to be swimming the fifty free today,” Jaebum says. “I wanted you to hear it from me, though I believe word has already spread.” At this, he casts Mark a pointed glance, to which Mark returns a wholly unapologetic, shit-eating grin.

Jinyoung clears his throat primly. “It’s none of my business what you swim,” he replies. True. “I don’t care.” Less true.

Jaebum licks his lips – they’re slightly chapped, Jinyoung notices, probably from the chlorine. He should moisturise more. Not that Jinyoung cares. Jaebum’s lips could fall right off his face and Jinyoung wouldn’t bat an eye.

“It was just how the assignments worked out,” explains Jaebum. “I don’t mean to compete with you.”

Jinyoung narrows his eyes. “Funny, because that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

This silences Jaebum. Maybe even angers him a little, but Jinyoung can’t really tell. His face just closes up, the very picture of cool civility.

“I guess so,” he says, evenly. “Well, I’ll see you in the water, then.” Pauses. The tiniest hint of a smirk quirks the corner of his lips. “May the best man win.”

Then, before Jinyoung has a chance to respond, he’s turned and is hopping down the steps to return to his team.

“Don’t worry!” Jinyoung calls out after him, because he absolutely refuses to let Jaebum have the last word. “I plan to!”

But Jaebum just raises one hand in a backwards wave, not even bothering to turn back to look at him. It makes Jinyoung seethe with rage. He sits back down heavily, folding his arms across his body. Next to him, Mark is studying him carefully, which Jinyoung tries to ignore.

Mark, however, won’t be ignored. He hums softly to himself in contemplation, then says, “I don’t understand why he gets under your skin so badly.”

Jinyoung makes a face. “It’s because he’s _cocky,”_ he says.

“And because he’s _good,”_ adds Mark, smirking. “You can’t stand not being the best at something.”

The scowl on Jinyoung’s face deepens. “He’s not that good,” he argues, even though, deep down, he knows Jaebum is. When Mark gives him a disbelieving look, Jinyoung rolls his eyes and concedes, “He’s good at the fly, fine. But free is _my thing.”_

Mark leans back on his hands. Grins at Jinyoung. “You’ll just have to win, then,” he says.

 

-

 

Jinyoung doesn’t win.

Well, he does, but not in the event that matters. He beats Jaebum in the freestyle relay, but only because Jaebum’s team isn’t as good as Jinyoung’s, and by the time it gets to them, Jinyoung has a pretty solid head start.

In the fifty free, though. Jinyoung swims until it feels like his lungs are about to explode, smashes into the opposite wall with such force and speed that he feels like he might have bruised his hand, but when he surfaces, Jaebum’s there too, and he can’t tell who’s won. There’s a heart-stopping moment as both their heads whip round to the screens, waiting for the results to come up, but then Jaebum’s name appears above Jinyoung’s, with not even a full second between them, and Jinyoung wants to punch something.

“Good swim,” Jaebum says, smirking at Jinyoung from the next lane. Or maybe just smiling. Jinyoung can’t tell, and in any case he doesn’t care.

“Fuck off, Jaebum,” he snaps.

 

-

 

Jaebum doesn’t stop swimming the fifty metre freestyle. The next time he wins, Jinyoung smiles tightly and mumbles something that sounds like ‘congratulations’, or maybe ‘I’ll kill you’ – even Jinyoung isn’t sure which he’s saying.

But Jinyoung does win, once, at the last swim meet of the season. He’s been putting in countless of extra hours in the pool, and it’s all worth it in that second when he sees his name flicker onto the screen above Jaebum’s. He hasn’t won by much, but he’s won, and that’s all that matters.

“Good swim,” Jaebum says, as he always does. He inclines his head at Jinyoung, like a nod of congratulations. But it feel patronising, like a father praising a child for doing something mundane and unimpressive, and all the sense of smug satisfaction that had been welling up in Jinyoung immediately dissipates.

He scowls. “Fuck off, Jaebum.”

God, he hates him, he really does.

 

-

 

The season ends, then exams roll around, and then it’s summer vacation. And it’s nice to be home, Jinyoung thinks, it really is. Away from the busyness of the big city, with his mom fussing over him and making him as much food as he can eat – which, being a swimmer, is _a lot._ But it’s hard to get proper practice in when the community pool is only open during the day, when it’s also inevitably packed full of noisy kids.

So when Hyunwoo summons them all back a week before classes start, Jinyoung’s actually glad. The university swim centre always smells of damp, but it’s familiar, and it’s home. He sits in the stands, huddled up against Jackson – it’s far too early in the morning, and far too cold – as Hyunwoo gives them his welcome back speech, yammers on about the usual stuff. Jinyoung yawns into his palm. After a whole summer away, he’s no longer used to waking up this early for training.

“And, finally, I have a piece of news I wanted to share with you,” Hyunwoo’s saying, and Jinyoung perks up. Exchanges a glance with Mark, on the other side of Jackson. Hyunwoo clears his throat awkwardly. “I have been informed that, when the school year starts, we will have a new team member. A transfer student.”

Jinyoung frowns. This is unconventional. The rest of the team stirs, people looking at each other quizzically, hushed whispers undulating through the group.

“Before you ask,” Hyunwoo says, quickly, clearly sensing the unrest, “I don’t know who this person is, only that the university accepted him on the condition that he join the swim team.”

“So they poached him,” pipes up Jackson, ever to the point.

Youngjae looks at Jackson, wide-eyed. “He must be good, if he got poached,” he murmurs thoughtfully.

Hyunwoo coughs, and the team falls silent. It’s a skill, Jinyoung muses to himself, how Hyunwoo’s able to command such attention and respect, despite the fact he’s basically just an awkward teddy bear.

“I don’t know anything more,” Hyunwoo says, casting his gaze across the team, looking at each one of them in the eye, “so let’s not speculate.” He says it firmly, because it’s his duty, it’s what he should say, as team captain. But the way he eyes all of them – he knows they’re going to speculate anyway.

Which, obviously, they do. For the entire week that follows the announcement, the swim team barely talks about anything else. Various names are thrown about – Hakyeon, which would be great, he’s so talented, except that he’s graduated; or Taehyung, a weedy-looking kid who’s turned out to be a breaststroke wunderkind; or Hyunsik, who’s basically unbeatable at the backstroke.

And also, of course, Jaebum.

Yugyeom’s the one who brings him up, which earns him a smack from Jinyoung. But it’s not something Jinyoung hasn’t considered himself. He just – really doesn’t want to think about it.

“What if it really is him, though?” asks Jackson, when they’re walking to the swim centre for the first training session of the new school year. “What are you going to do?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” says Jinyoung, grumpily. “I’m not going to _do_ anything, and besides – it’s not going to be him!”

“Yes, but what if it is?” repeats Jackson. He’s getting louder now. More insistent.

Jinyoung sighs, rubs at his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s not going to be him,” he says, “I would rather die. Hell, I’d rather _quit_ the fucking team.”

Next to him, Mark just rolls his eyes. “You don’t mean that,” he says, as they push open the doors into the swim centre.

“Yes, I do,” replies Jinyoung. Hyunwoo’s standing on the other end of the pool, looks up at them when they enter. The building’s warmer this time, at least, Jinyoung thinks. There are a few people swimming laps in the pool. They probably turned the heating on when they got here. Jinyoung drops his bag on the ground by the side of the pool, starts pulling off his hoodie. “But it _doesn’t matter,”_ he continues, turning back to Mark and Jackson, “because it’s not going to be him.”

Hyunwoo’s walking around the pool towards them now. He looks kind of agitated – or, at least, as agitated as Hyunwoo gets, which is not very.

Jinyoung casts Hyunwoo a nervous glance, before looking back towards Mark. “What’s going on?”

But he doesn’t need an answer. It very quickly becomes clear why Hyunwoo’s speed-walking towards him. He was coming to warn him. Or maybe to restrain him.

Because one of the people swimming laps in the pool has come to the edge, is pulling himself out of the water. He runs his hand over his hair, smoothing it back off his face. Jinyoung turns when he notices the movement, and what he sees – the _person_ he sees – renders him speechless.

Jaebum – because _of course_ it’s Jaebum – just grins. And he’s standing there with his hair dripping water onto his stupid broad shoulders, running down his chest and his abs and oh my _god_ Jinyoung is about to scream, except that he can’t find his voice, he’s so blindsided and so fucking furious.

“Wh-what – are you fucking _for real_ right now?” Jinyoung stammers.

“Yeah,” Jaebum says, still wearing that stupid grin on his face, like he’s revelling in causing Jinyoung maximum distress, “I’m your new teammate.”

“I guess you’re going to have to quit the team now,” says Mark, from somewhere behind him. The amusement is evident in his voice.

Nope. Absolutely not. No fucking way. Jinyoung lets out a sharp bark of disbelieving laughter.

And says the only thing that comes to mind, the only thing that ever comes to mind when it comes to Jaebum: “Fuck off, Jaebum!”

Except Jaebum doesn’t fuck off. Jaebum is, apparently, here to stay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because we all need a bit of sports au, and in particular swimming au, in our lives
> 
> I don't know how often I'm going to update this as I have written none of it but it is constantly at the forefront of my brain, so hopefully I will be able to write it speedily! I don't think this will be longer than maybe approx. 6 chapters?
> 
> anyway. please come talk to me about swimmers jjp because I have FEELINGS about this!! I'm @notionxally on twitter and cc


	2. Chapter 2

 

Training is bearable, just about. They all have to sit down while Hyunwoo introduces Jaebum as if they don’t already know who is, and then their coach – Taecyeon, a university alum, and a star swimmer in his day – gives a speech about teamwork, about putting rivalries in the past, about how they’re all in the same boat now. Jinyoung isn’t sure if he’s imagining the way Taecyeon keeps eyeing him as he speaks. He definitely isn’t imagining the way  _ everyone else _ on the team keeps glancing at him. As if he’s the problem here.

But once that ordeal is over, Jinyoung just plunges himself into the pool, and the chatter of the world disappears once he’s underwater. All the thoughts fade away, superseded by the fire in his lungs, his muscles, his heart, as he pushes himself to swim, to swim as fast as he fucking can. This is what he loves to do, what he’s good at. He feels like he could do this forever.

He can’t, though, and when it’s his turn to rest he climbs reluctantly out of the water. Jaebum is standing at the edge of the pool, getting ready to hop in with the rest of the flyers, Hyunwoo amongst them. Just the sight of Jaebum alone is enough to send all the frustration that Jinyoung thought he’d managed to swim off crashing back into him.

“How you doing?” asks Mark, when Jinyoung comes to sit down next to him.

“Ugh,” is all Jinyoung says, eloquently. He towels aggressively at his hair, all the while glaring at Jaebum as he climbs onto the starting blocks and dives into the water. It occurs to him that he’s never really  _ properly _ watched Jaebum swim before. At competitions there’s always so much going on, running from one set of heats to another, or discussing strategy with teammates, or running to the warm-up pools to get some easy laps in.

Watching Jaebum slice through the water, Jinyoung finds himself idly hoping that Jaebum will turn out to be a terrible swimmer, at least where technique is concerned. Jinyoung has flawless technique, he knows this about himself, and so if Jaebum is all speed and power but horrible form, that’s at least something Jinyoung can definitively claim to be better than Jaebum at.

No such luck. 

Jinyoung doesn’t swim the butterfly, but he knows what a good fly stroke looks like, and Jaebum has it. He hovers right at the surface of the water, the timing of his kicks and the sweep of his arms timed to perfection. Jinyoung can see the muscles in his back rippling with the physical exertion, can see how powerful a swimmer Jaebum really is. It makes him feel incredibly bitter.

As if to rub it in, Mark whistles lowly in appreciation. “He’s good, isn’t he?” 

Jinyoung purses his lips. “He’s  _ fine,” _ he replies. His eyes follow Jaebum across the pool, scrabbling to find something to criticise. “He’s using too much power. He’ll tire himself out.”

“So? He’s not a distance swimmer. It works well enough for him to beat you.”

Now Mark’s just goading him. Jinyoung glares at his supposed best friend, who’s grinning at him with unbridled amusement glittering in his eyes. “Piss off,” Jinyoung says.

Mark just laughs. “You know, you should really be calling me hyung,” he teases.

“I’ll call you hyung when you start acting like one,” replies Jinyoung, without missing a beat. Even though that’s not quite true – Jinyoung calls Mark hyung all the time and Mark  _ never _ acts like one.

“You’re really tense these days,” muses Mark, tapping a finger to his chin contemplatively. “When was the last time you got laid?”

Jinyoung shoves Mark so hard that he falls off the bench, but even then he’s still chuckling merrily to himself. “We need to get you some dick,” Mark sing-songs, climbing to his feet as he waltzes off to take his turn in the pool.

“I’m getting plenty of dick, thank you very much!” snaps Jinyoung in return.

Jaebum chooses that very moment to walk past, water pooling beneath his feet with every step. “Good for you,” he says coolly as he passes, shooting Jinyoung a lopsided grin.

Jinyoung groans, presses his forehead against his palms. It’s going to be a long season.

 

-

 

Friday afternoon, after training, Bambam suggests they all go out for dinner and drinks – a “bonding” exercise, he claims. Which is the worst possible way to sell it, at least from Jinyoung’s perspective, because it gets Hyunwoo, who doesn’t usually care for the bar scene, all excited about the opportunity for team building.

Which means that Jinyoung can’t duck out of agreeing to go, and which is how he finds himself crammed into the back of a large booth at the local student bar, nursing a pint of beer and shovelling nachos into his mouth.

“Don’t be so grumpy, you love dancing, come on!” Jackson shouts in his ear, with unnecessary volume – the music in the bar is loud but not  _ that _ loud.

“Maybe later,” replies Jinyoung around a mouthful of nachos. Maybe when he’s drunker, is what he means. Rolling his eyes, Jackson abandons Jinyoung in favour of wrapping his arms around Yugyeom’s waist and hauling him out onto the dance floor, whereupon Bambam immediately follows.

Jaebum’s long since left the table, thank god, but Jinyoung can still see him, which means he’s still glaring daggers into Jaebum’s back. Next to him, Mark flicks him on the forehead.

“Fuck, hyung – what was that for?” Jinyoung protests, rubbing at the sore spot on his head.

“Stop staring at him,” Mark replies. “It’s creepy. You look like you’re going to kill him.”

Jinyoung bares his teeth in his best impression of a serial killer sneer. “Maybe I  _ am _ going to kill him,” he drawls.

“If he gets murdered I’m turning you into the police,” snipes back Mark.

“So much for friendship! So much for loyalty!” Jinyoung bemoans dramatically. He takes a swig of his beer.

Mark rolls his eyes. “I don’t know who told you we’re friends, but you should sue them for misrepresentation, because we’re not.”

“Can we be frenemies at least?”

“No, Jaebum is your frenemy.”

Jinyoung makes a face, glances across the crowded dance floor towards Jaebum. He’s standing by the bar with Sungjin, a small group of girls surrounding them. Not surprising, given that they’re both in their swim team tracksuit. Which itself is understandable given that they had all come to the bar straight from practice, but Jinyoung latches onto it as further evidence that Jaebum has his head up his own ass. Never mind the fact that the only members of the team who had bothered to change back into street clothes after showering were Jinyoung, Bambam and another one of Jinyoung’s juniors, an excitable second year named Minhyuk.

“He’s just my  _ enemy,” _ Jinyoung clarifies. “No friendship there.” He pauses, watches as Sungjin laughs and claps Jaebum on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe Sungjin is friends with him,” Jinyoung adds, wrinkling his nose up in distaste. They’d discovered within the first few days of joining the team that Sungjin and Jaebum had been in the same swim club for a couple years during high school, a fact that Sungjin had never before mentioned. Probably because Jinyoung would have bitten his head off for it.

One of the girls standing next to Jaebum is laughing now, throwing her head back in evident, if exaggerated, delight. She rests on hand lightly on his arm. Probably feeling up his bicep. Jinyoung scowls.

“He’s so full of himself, just – look at him.”

Mark smirks. “He’s just  _ talking, _ you freak,” he says. “You have a weird obsession with Jaebum.”

“Do not!” argues Jinyoung. “I just think he’s arrogant.” The laughing girl is now leaning in to whisper something in Jaebum’s ear, something that makes him smile and nod. “Look at him, probably getting a boner from all the attention he’s getting from those girls. Straight men are so  _ lame.” _

“Mm,” Mark hums, sipping at his drink and eyeing Jinyoung like he’s watching a particularly amusing show. “He’s not, though.”

Jinyoung snorts derisively. “What, getting a boner? No, probably not, it was just a figure of speech, I bet he can’t get it up anyway–” he starts saying, but Mark cuts him off.

“No, I mean – he’s not straight, though.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widen. “Excuse me, what?” he says. “But wasn’t he dating that girl, the one with the blonde hair, what was her name? Yongsun?”

Mark raises an eyebrow at Jinyoung. “Bisexuals exist, Jinyoung-ah,” he says, with the tone of an indulgent parent speaking to a naive child. Jinyoung’s cheeks flush, and he gulps down the rest of his beer in embarrassment.

“I know that,” he says, a little petulantly. Practically half the swim team is bi, after all, and the half that isn’t is gay. Something about all that wet, glistening skin on show, the speedos… “I just meant – he seems so  _ straight.” _

This draws a doubtful look from Mark. “Does he, though? He’s obviously more interested in talking to Sungjin than any of those girls there.”

Jinyoung shrugs. “That’s just because they’re friends.”

“Oh yes, that’s a real  _ friendly _ arm round Sungjin’s waist there,” coos Mark, as Jaebum leans forward to speak into Sungjin’s ear, his arm snaking round the other’s waist as he does so.

“Shut up, they’re just friends, don’t be pervy.” Jinyoung elbows Mark in the ribs to emphasise his point.

Mark laughs. “How do think I found out Jaebum’s bi? Sungjin told me they dated for a couple months in high school.”

Jinyoung’s midway through chowing down on another handful of nachos, ends up coughing and spluttering at this revelation from Mark. He thumps at his chest forcefully, snatching Mark’s drink from him and downing it. It’s more whiskey than coke, and it doesn’t really help with the choking, just burns his throat more. 

When he regains his composure, Jinyoung glares at Mark. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he near-shouts. “When did you find out?”

Mark is finding all of this exceedingly funny, which Jinyoung really does not appreciate. “Just now, when you went to the bathroom,” he says, still cackling. “I was waiting for the right moment to tell you.”

By right moment, Mark obviously means the moment that will cause Jinyoung maximum distress. Jinyoung glowers at him. “I hate you, you know?” he says forcefully. But he doesn’t mean it, and he knows that Mark knows he doesn’t mean it, which is why he can be as fierce as he wants to be. “Maybe even more than I hate Jaebum.”

“I wasn’t aware you hated anyone more than you hate Jaebum,” replies Mark, otherwise completely unaffected by how his best friend has just declared his undying hatred for him.

Jinyoung contemplates this for a moment, then says, with an air of mock-seriousness, “You’re right, I hate Jaebum the most.”

Mark giggles. “For someone who hates Jaebum so much, you sure do talk about him a lot,” he says.

“I talk about how much I hate him,” clarifies Jinyoung.

“I’m just saying – you can’t seem to keep his name out of your mouth.”

Jinyoung’s about to reply, when their conversation is interrupted by Youngjae stumbling against the table and dropping into the seat across from them. “What are you guys talking about?” he asks, words slurring together slightly.

“Oh, just about how Jinyoungie can’t keep Jaebum out of his mouth,” says Mark, winking across the table at Youngjae as he does so.

“That’s not – I can’t – oh  _ god,” _ Jinyoung starts to stammer out an explanation, but Youngjae’s just staring at them in bewilderment. “Forget it. Ignore Mark.”

Youngjae shrugs, leans across the table to grab hold of Mark and Jinyoung’s hands. “Jackson said to get you guys on the dance floor by  _ whatever means necessary,” _ he shouts. And Jinyoung really doesn’t know what that means – Youngjae has a dark side that doesn’t appear often, but when it does, it’s terrifying – so he lets himself be dragged to his feet.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Jinyoung complains, even as he’s stumbling onto the dance floor.

“Taecyeon-hyung is here, he’s buying a round of shots!” Youngjae yells. Taecyeon was such a regular at the bar back in his day that he now gets great discounts on everything. If he’s arrived, that means the night’s about to take a wilder turn. And Jinyoung, despite his protests, doesn’t mind. It would be nice to forget the frustrations of this past week.

So when he’s yanked up against the bar and presented with a row of tequila shots, Jinyoung just grins, licks the line of salt off the back of his hand, clinks his glass against Jackson’s, and knocks the shot back.

 

-

 

He loses track of how many shots he’s taken. The music seems louder, and either the bar has turned on the strobe lights, or Jinyoung’s vision is getting spotty. Or maybe both.

The women’s swim team have arrived as well, Jinyoung can see Hyolyn ordering a round of drinks at the bar, and Jennie and Lisa are dancing together, arms wrapped around each other. He stumbles into Momo, who’s laughing and spinning him round and shoving him back into Yugyeom’s arms.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Yugyeom asks him, but Jinyoung just laughs him off. Everything’s a blur, but Jinyoung’s having fun, jumping around and shout-singing along to all the songs at the top of his lungs. 

The dance floor is packed, and it’s difficult for Jinyoung to keep track of his friends. When he feels a pair of hands on his waist, he assumes it’s Mark or Jackson at first, giggles and rolls his hips back because that’s what they do in clubs. But the hands slip down to his hips, and the fingers grip into his flesh a little too forcefully, and Jinyoung realises with a start that it’s not any of his friends.

He cranes his neck round, but can barely see who it is in the dim light and in his inebriated state. Whoever it is seems cute enough, though – tall and with a strong jawline, and so Jinyoung shrugs to himself, leans himself back into this stranger, closes his eyes and sways in time to the music.

Despite what he told Mark, it’s been a while since Jinyoung’s gotten lucky – mostly because there weren’t many, if any, people from his hometown that he wanted to get with. And it feels nice, now, to have someone’s arms around him, the warm press of someone else’s body against his back.

But then the stranger is leaning down, whispering, “Do you want to get out of here?” His lips grazing against the curve of Jinyoung’s ear. It sends shivers down Jinyoung’s spine, and he’s not sure if it’s in a good way. As nice as it feels to dance with someone who’s attracted to him, Jinyoung doesn’t really want to go home with a complete stranger.

“I – uh, I should look for my friends,” he demurs, wriggling out of the stranger’s grasp. Flashes him a smile, like ‘this was nice, but enough now’.

The stranger grabs onto Jinyoung’s arm, tugs him closer. His other hand holds on to Jinyoung’s waist. “Are you kidding me?” he hisses. His voice goes from low and sultry, to sharp and aggressive. Jinyoung’s heart pounds in his chest as he tries to pry his wrist out of this man’s tight grip. “You think you can lead me on and just disappear like that?”

“Let go of me,” Jinyoung snaps, sounding far braver than he feels. They’re surrounded by people, but no one’s paying them any mind. It just looks like they’re holding hands and dancing. Jinyoung stumbles backwards, but this unnamed man is still clutching on to him, drags him out towards the edge of the dance floor.

“Excuse me – is there a problem here?”

Jinyoung twists around to see who’s talking, and he must be drunk out of his mind, because his brain is telling him it’s Jaebum. He squints at him. The flashing lights make it difficult to focus, but it’s definitely Jaebum. Sobriety crashes over him like a wave of cold water.

The man holding on to Jinyoung’s arm tightens his grip. Yanks Jinyoung towards him forcefully. Jinyoung staggers forwards in surprise, his feet catching against each other as he tries to keep his balance. He frowns, pulls himself away. “Let go,” he repeats, and his voice is pitched higher than he’d have liked, or expected.

Jaebum steps closer, and it becomes even more apparent just how imposing his frame is. The grip on Jinyoung’s arm slackens slightly as the man holding on to him falters. “It’s none of your business,” the man says, but his eyes dart nervously between Jaebum and Jinyoung. “What are you, his boyfriend or something?”

“I don’t have to be his boyfriend to see that you’re harassing him,” replies Jaebum coolly. His eyebrows raise in challenge. “I believe he asked you to let go. You’re not going to like it if he has to ask again.”

The man swallows visibly. Drops Jinyoung’s arm abruptly. “Not fucking worth it,” he spits, before turning and weaving his way through the crowd. Jaebum and Jinyoung stand there for a second, watching him leave.

Then Jaebum turns to Jinyoung. “Are you okay?”

Embarrassment floods Jinyoung, heats his cheeks. “I’m fine,” he replies, a little more harshly than he should. “Would’ve been fine. Didn’t need your help.”

Jaebum licks his lips, bites his lower lips between his teeth. He makes a low humming noise in the back of his throat, like he doesn’t believe Jinyoung. The crowd surges around them, and they stumble against each other. Their chests bump. Jinyoung feels too warm.

“You’re drunk,” Jaebum says. His hands are on Jinyoung’s elbows to steady him.

“I’m fine,” Jinyoung says again, shrugging Jaebum’s arms off him. He feels distinctly more sober than he did before the  _ incident, _ but his head is still swimming slightly. “I don’t need your help.”

This makes Jaebum frown. “I’m not your enemy,” he says.

And yeah, maybe he isn’t. Enemy seems like a strong word. But Jinyoung’s tipsy, and everything about Jaebum just annoys him down to his very core. So he just scowls, says, “Just because you’ve joined the team doesn’t mean you’re not my enemy.”

Something flickers across Jaebum’s face, something Jinyoung can’t understand or even identify. But it makes his insides shrivel up with guilt. He shoves the feeling down. Nothing to feel guilty about.

“You really hate me, don’t you?”

Jinyoung looks up at Jaebum. They’re so close, chests pressing against each other, and if Jinyoung wanted – which he doesn’t – he could so easily close the distance between their lips. But the proximity is still unnerving, and when Jinyoung notices his eyes flick down to Jaebum’s lips, something inside him leaps up in panic.

“Yes,” he says, suddenly taking as large a step as he can away from Jaebum. Which doesn’t get him very far away, because of all the other sweaty bodies pressed up against them. But he shoves his back up against the wall of dancing humans, tearing his eyes away from Jaebum. “Yes, I hate you.”

Then he ducks his head down, squeezes his way into the throng, doesn’t look back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing with this fic I'm just,,,, writing things
> 
> uhhh I hope you guys are enjoying this. please leave kudos and comments and come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc


	3. Chapter 3

 

When Jinyoung wakes up the next morning, it’s with a piercing headache. He had – sensibly – decided to head home around one in the morning, unlike Jackson and Bambam and some of the other younger swimmers, who seemed determined to stay out until the bar closed. Less sensible, however, was his decision to consume all the alcohol that he did. 

He crawls out of bed and staggers across his studio flat to the kitchen, filling a glass of water to the brim and chugging it down. Taecyeon isn’t coming in today, which means there’s no official training, just what Hyunwoo refers to as ‘open training’. Jackson prefers to call it ‘you win what you swim’. They’re just different ways of saying everyone is strongly encouraged to spend as much of the day as the wish. Jinyoung would ordinarily try to get to the pool first thing in the morning, but he feels too horrible to even consider it.

Filling another glass of water and setting it on his nightstand, he clambers ungracefully back into bed. Sets an alarm on his phone for three hours later. Hopefully he’ll feel a bit better after a little more sleep.

The headache doesn’t go away, but by the time his alarm goes off, it’s faded to a dull throb. Jinyoung makes himself some toast, swallows a couple of painkillers, and grabs his duffel bag off the floor. If he hurries he’ll be able to get to the pool just after midday. Still respectable.

In fact, Jinyoung’s one of the first ones there. Hyunwoo is already swimming laps – because of course he is – and Sungjin is sitting in the stands, massaging his temples. Mark’s texted him to say he’s on the way. Unsurprisingly, there’s no sign of Jackson or Bambam.

Jaebum isn’t there either. Typical arrogant ass, thinks Jinyoung to himself, bitterly. Just because he’s already a supposed ‘star swimmer’, he can’t even be bothered to turn up to optional training. 

Jinyoung focuses on his annoyance at Jaebum’s absence, focuses on how it’s only serving to confirm everything he’d thought about Jaebum as undeserving of his success. Swallows down the sinking feeling in his gut as he thinks about what happened in the bar last night. Thinks about the venom with which he’d spat the words,  _ ‘I hate you’ _ at Jaebum. 

Being in the water usually makes Jinyoung feel zen, but not today. His head churns with thoughts and images. The look in Jaebum’s eyes, hazy through the curtain of inebriation, but still undeniably burning with an intensity that shakes Jinyoung to his core. He doesn’t understand why Jaebum tried to help him, doesn’t understand what Jaebum was hoping to achieve from it. Was it just to confuse him? Because, if so – it’s working extremely well.

Jinyoung does ten laps, and then his stomach starts churning as much as his mind, so he climbs out of the pool to take a break. Mark’s stretching languidly by the stands, so Jinyoung pads over to him, flops down on the bench.

“Hungover?” asks Mark. They had left the bar at same time last night, in similar states of drunkenness. Somehow managed to stagger back to the dorms together, the drunk leading the drunk.

Jinyoung just groans, lies back on and waits for his nausea to slowly subside. “I’m too old for this,” he complains. “Have you heard from Jacks?”

Mark scoffs. “I got a series of voice messages from him at four in the morning,” he says. “And then a text at nine saying that he threw up bright green liquid and that he’s dying but he’ll leave me all his worldly possessions if I bring him food.”

“Did you bring him food?”

“Hell, no.” Mark rolls his eyes. He brought this on himself, he was the one who ordered the absinthe shots.”

Jinyoung pulls a face. He doesn’t remember having absinthe, but he does remember Jackson aggressively shoving numerous shots at him throughout the course of the evening. It certainly explains Jackson throwing up bright green liquid, and also the extent of Jinyoung’s hangover. He digs the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I really, really hope Jackson spends the entire day throwing up.”

“Same,” agrees Mark, reaching out his hand to pull Jinyoung to his feet. “Let’s have dinner after training? And whoever’s around. I would ask Jacks as well but, well – he might not be up for it.” Mark smirks.

This, at least, makes Jinyoung laugh. 

 

-

 

The only other people who turn up to training over the course of the afternoon are Youngjae and Yugyeom, the latter of whom manages to rope in a groggy Bambam into dinner. Hyunwoo disappears off somewhere because he apparently “already has dinner plans” but he won’t tell them who with – which leaves the rest of them speculating as to who their captain’s mystery date is.

They make their way across campus to a new burger joint that Mark insists on trying out, and Jinyoung gets into a heated debate with Yugyeom about whether Hyunwoo’s date is more likely to be with Hyolyn or Minhyuk. He’s convinced it’s Hyolyn, but Yugyeom disagrees.

“Have you not seen Hyunwoo hyung and Minhyuk hyung flirting?” asks Yugyeom incredulously. “Why would you think it’s Hyolyn noona?”

Jinyoung scrunches up his face. “They do not  _ flirt,” _ he counters, “Minhyuk annoys Hyunwoo hyung so much.”

“That’s them flirting, you dummy,” sighs Yugyeom. “You’re so clueless when it comes to romance.”

“Am not, shut up,” snaps Jinyoung. He shoves Yugyeom, making him bump into Bambam, who’s strolling along lazily beside them.

“Stop,” Yugyeom whines, dragging out the syllable. He tugs at Bambam’s sleeve, makes them switch places. “Jinyoungie hyung is bullying me.”

This brings a wide grin to Jinyoung’s face. There’s hardly anything more he loves than tormenting Yugyeom. “Only because you’re a brat.”

They arrive at the burger joint, only to see Jaebum standing outside, hands in his pockets. He brightens up when he sees them approach, grins broadly. Jinyoung returns a scowl. What the hell is he doing here?

Sungjin strides forward, gives Jaebum a quick hug, and then they’re leading the way into the restaurant. Jinyoung hangs back, still grumpy about Jaebum unexpected appearance. He catches Mark by the elbow, tugs him back, even as everyone else is already heading in to find a table.

“Why is he here?” Jinyoung asks.

Mark rolls his eyes. “Sungjin said he was going to ask him to come along,” he replies. “You were just too busy arguing with Gyeom to pay attention.”

Jinyoung pouts. “And you didn’t  _ object _ on my behalf?” he asks, sounding scandalised.

“Why would I?” Mark sighs. “We’re teammates now, you can’t keep avoiding him.”

“I know,” whines Jinyoung. He chews on his lower lip. “It’s not just that – it’s, well. Last night, I – ugh, never mind.”

He starts to push the door into the restaurant open, but now it’s Mark’s turn to hold him back. “Last night? What happened last night?” he asks. Pauses, eyes Jinyoung with suspicion. “Did you – did you make out with him, or something?”

“What? No!” exclaims Jinyoung. “Why the fuck would you ask that? I hate him, remember?”

Mark shrugs. “Fine line between love and hate,” he says breezily.

“No. Absolutely not,” says Jinyoung. Firmly. “I just – we had a little confrontation and I might have told him I hate him.”

This makes Mark sigh heavily. “You’re such a drama queen,” he scolds. “And now, what? You feel guilty?”

“No! I mean, not really. Or – I don’t know. He’s my number one rival, and now all of a sudden he’s my teammate? I’m just a little confused.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Mark says, reaching over to ruffle Jinyoung’s hair. Jinyoung ducks away, smooths his fringe out, glaring at Mark. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Now can we go eat? I’m starving.”

Jinyoung juts his lower lip out in a tiny pout, but follows Mark into the restaurant obligingly. They weave their way through the tables to a large booth in the back, where the rest of the team are already seated, perusing menus. There are two spare seats at the end, one next to Sungjin and the other next to Jaebum.

No prizes for guessing which seat Mark immediately heads for.

And then he sits there, next to Sungjin, beaming up at Jinyoung. Making a mental note to give Mark a swift kick to the arse after dinner, Jinyoung begrudgingly takes the seat next to Jaebum. But he makes it a point not to say anything more to Jaebum than a curt ‘hello’ as he sits down, waits sullenly for their food to appear, and then just focuses all of his attention on consuming his burger.

The conversation flows easily around Jinyoung, and he thinks bitterly that the rest of the team seems to have accepted Jaebum into their fold without so much as a second’s hesitation. It helps that Jaebum is a relaxed, easy conversationalist, accepting teasing with good humour and dishing it out gently. If anything, Jinyoung’s starting to feel like the odd one out, grumpily chomping on his burger at the corner of the table.

“Jackson’s not here,” Jaebum observes. “Is he okay? He was really drunk last night.”

Mark laughs. “He’s alive, but apparently – in his words – spewing vomit like a fountain.”

On the other side of Sungjin, Bambam sticks his tongue out and wrinkles up his face. “Eww!” he cries out. “Gross! We’re eating!”

Bambam’s overreaction draws a laugh out of Jaebum. It’s a bright, loud, unrestrained sound. Jinyoung wants to hate it, but he doesn’t, and that makes him irrationally angrier.

“I’m guessing he wasn’t at training with you guys, then?” Jaebum asks, grinning, his voice teasing.

“Neither were you,” snarks Jinyoung suddenly, the first thing he’s said since the food arrived. Everyone turns to look at him, as if they’ve forgotten he’s there. Jaebum’s staring at him as well, Jinyoung can feel the heat of his gaze on the side of his face.

Across the table, Mark is giving him a warning look. “Jinyoung-ah,” he says.

Jinyoung doesn’t meet his gaze. “What?” he asks, glancing round at the rest of his teammates. “I’m just saying – seems a bit rich to make fun of Jackson for skipping training because he’s hungover, when he wasn’t there either.”

“Jinyoung, that’s not–” Sungjin starts saying. Probably something to defend his friend slash ex-boyfriend, Jinyoung thinks. He doesn’t want to hear it.

Apparently, neither does Jaebum, because he cuts Sungjin off. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, giving Sungjin a sharp look. Flicks his eyes back to Jinyoung. There’s a look like a challenge in his gaze, but Jinyoung’s trying not to look directly at him. He can feel his heart rate increasing under the scrutiny. Jaebum exhales, long and slow, still looking at Jinyoung. “If you have a problem with me, you should just say it.”

Jinyoung swallows tightly. “I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Bullshit,” replies Jaebum, without missing a beat. “You obviously do.”

Everyone else at the table seems to have become frozen in place, all staring, wide-eyed, at Jinyoung and Jaebum. Is anyone even breathing any more? Jinyoung isn’t sure. He isn’t even sure he himself is breathing, to be perfectly honest.

“Fine,” Jinyoung says, after pointedly taking a deep breath to steady himself. He lifts his chin, turns to return Jaebum’s stare. “Fine, I have a problem with you.”

Jaebum scoffs. Leans back in his seat, folds his arms. “Go on, then,” he says. “Tell me.”

He’s sitting so cocky, the way he’s just waiting for Jinyoung to speak, like he doesn’t think Jinyoung will be able to justify his dislike, and it makes Jinyoung even more annoyed. Because he has  _ every reason _ to dislike Jaebum. And not just because he’s jealous, no matter what Mark thinks.

So Jinyoung clenches his jaw, licks his lips, and starts talking. 

“I have a problem with your attitude,” he starts. “I have a problem with how you waltz in here and think you’re better than everyone else without even having to try. Do you think you’re going to get special treatment? Just because everyone thinks you’re some sort of aquatic prodigy?”

Jaebum narrows his eyes. “When have I ever said that I expect special treatment? Or that I think I’m better than everyone else?”

“You don’t have to say it,” retorts Jinyoung, angrily. “It’s clear from your actions. It’s only your first week and you’re already always the first person to leave training. You didn’t even bother turning up today. You’re not any fucking better than any of us. If you don’t work for it, you’re not going to get to swim the events you want to.”

The fury radiating off Jaebum is palpable. “Is that what this is about?” he spits. “The events? You think I’m going to try and steal your events from you?”

Sungjin leans forward, like he wants to say something, but Jinyoung lets out such a sharp noise of disgust at Jaebum’s words that Sungjin is startled silent. The thought of Jaebum stealing his events hadn’t really crossed Jinyoung’s mind, but now that Jaebum mentioned is, it rears up in him like a monstrous terror. 

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare,”  _ he hisses. “I don’t know what your old team was like, but here we value work ethic. Your lazy ass would be lucky to keep your fly events. I don’t care how talented you think you are.”

Jaebum laughs at this. This time, it’s not a pleasant noise. It’s sharp, and filled with undisguised distaste. “Funny how you accuse me of thinking that I’m better than everyone else, when here you are – clearly thinking you’re better than me,” says Jaebum. “Well, guess what? You’re not better than anyone else, either.”

Then he pushes his chair back, and it makes a painful screeching noise as its legs scrape along the floor. Stands up, pulls out his wallet, drops a couple of bills on the table. Jinyoung’s chest is heaving as he inhales, exhales, heavily. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins. He clenches his hands into fists.

“Jaebum-ah,” Sungjin says, finally seeming to have regained his voice. “Sit down. I’m sure – we can talk about this.”

But Jaebum doesn’t sit down. “I’ve lost my appetite,” he says coldly. Jinyoung doesn’t turn to look at him, but he knows Jaebum is looking at him, staring at the back of his head. He doesn’t move a muscle, and neither does anyone else at the table, as Jaebum pulls on his jacket, picks up his bag, and storms out of the restaurant.

Once he’s gone, though, all eyes are on Jinyoung.

Sungjin is the first to speak. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

Jinyoung takes a long, deep inhale. He feels like he’s been holding his breath. If his hands weren’t clenched into fists they would be shaking. “I don’t –” he starts, but he doesn’t know where he’s going. “It was the truth.”

“Still,” says Yugyeom, in a small voice. “You didn’t need to say it like that.”

And Jinyoung knows he’s right, he knows this so completely that he can’t even bring himself to turn and glare at Yugyeom.

Sungjin scoffs loudly. “And it’s not even the fucking truth,” he snaps.

Jinyoung narrows his eyes at Sungjin. “Don’t give me that,” he snaps. “Just because he’s your ex-boyfriend or something doesn’t mean you have to defend everything he does.”

“Hyung,” breathes Yugyeom in shock, at the same time that Mark hisses, “Jinyoung,” angrily.

But Sungjin just glares at him. “I get that you don’t like Jaebum, fine,” he says, after a long and pregnant pause. “But right now the only person with an attitude problem is you.” Then he gets up, and Mark shuffles down to let him pass. Sungjin adds his money for the meal to the bills Jaebum had left down. Shoots Jinyoung one last withering glare, before walking out the way Jaebum had gone.

The only person left who’s older than Jinyoung is Mark, and so of course it’s Mark who speaks next. He sighs heavily, sits back down in his seat across from Jinyoung.

“What the hell was that?” he asks.

Jinyoung can feel his ears heating up with shame. “I just – it had to be said.”

“Did it, though?” mumbles Bambam under his breath. He’s looking down, and probably doesn’t intend for Jinyoung to hear him, but in the brittle silence it’s impossible to miss.

Mark purses his lips. “Look, you’re my best friend and everything, but – that was a little uncalled for.”

Jinyoung turns an accusatory glare on him. “Whose side are you on?” he grumbles, but he knows Mark’s right. Whatever he feels about Jaebum, it wasn’t the right moment, and nor was he the right person to do it. And so, under Mark’s steady gaze, and in the heavy atmosphere that’s settled over the entire table, Jinyoung groans. 

“Fine,” he sighs. Casts a glance over at Yugyeom, who looks so stressed by the entire turn of events that he might be about to cry. “Gyeom-ah, stop making that face, I’ll apologise to him, okay?”

Yugyeom looks up at him. “Please? We’re teammates now,” he says plaintively. “Promise?”

And as much as Jinyoung enjoys terrorising Yugyeom, he has the hugest soft spot for him as well. Yugyeom, who loves everyone and hates conflict of any kind.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung says, firmly. “Next training session. Promise.”

 

-

 

Their next training session rolls around far too quickly for Jinyoung’s liking. It’s Tuesday evening, and Jinyoung’s had such a hectic start to his week that he barely remembers his promise to Yugyeon until he’s halfway through running across campus towards the swim centre.

He misses the start of training, but it’s fine, it was just because of a one-off guest lecture, and he’d told Hyunwoo about it. Plus, if there’s any boring admin information that the team needs to discuss, that usually happens at the start of trainings and so, with luck, Jinyoung will have missed all of that.

When he arrives, the team meeting seems to have just dispersed – perfect timing. Half of the team is trailing into the showers to get changed, a couple are sitting on the bleachers chatting, and some are just getting into the pool.

Jaebum’s standing by the near end of the pool, adjusting his goggles. Right, Jinyoung thinks, steeling himself. Apologise. He can do that. Might as well get this over and done with.

He strides over to Jaebum purposefully. When Jaebum notices him, something like alarm flickers across his features.

“I need to talk to you,” Jinyoung says.

Jaebum sighs heavily. “I really don’t want to fight,” he replies, turning away and walking off. Jinyoung hurries after him as he rounds the corner of the pool.

“No, we have to talk!” he calls out. Reaches his hand out, grabs hold of Jaebum’s arm. With a start, Jaebum whirls round, snatches his arm out of Jinyoung’s grasp.

At the far end of the pool, Jinyoung can see Yugyeom watching them. He looks flustered. Probably wanting to make sure Jinyoung will apologise as promised. Jinyoung waves a hand towards him dismissively, as if to say ‘I got it’. 

Jaebum glances back at Yugyeom, who’s now scurrying over towards Mark where he’s chatting to Sungjin in the bleachers on the other side of the pool. “Look,” he says, turning to Jinyoung, and he already sounds exhausted, “if this is about the relay, you should talk to Hyunwoo hyung about it–”

“No, shut up – I mean, I just wanted to apologise. For being a dick at dinner the other day,” Jinyoung starts, words pouring out of his mouth without much thought. Then something clicks in his mind. He pauses. Narrows his eyes at Jaebum. “What about the relay?” he asks.

Jaebum hesitates. “I thought that was why you wanted to talk,” he says. “You should really talk to Hyunwoo hyung about it.”

His reluctance to answer the question makes Jinyoung more agitated. “No, tell me –  _ what about _ the relay?”

Mark suddenly appears next to Jaebum. “Jinyoung-ah,” he says hastily, “can we talk?”

“Not now, hyung!” snaps Jinyoung. He glares at Mark and Jaebum both. “Not until he tells me about the damn relay!”

Jaebum presses his fingers to his temple, and the gesture annoys Jinyoung even more. As if Jinyoung’s being tiresome – which, okay, he is, but only because Jaebum’s being intentionally obtuse.

“We had a team meeting before you got here,” Jaebum says. “Hyunwoo hyung and Taecyeon hyung, they decided. I’m going to swim the last leg of the free relay.”

For a moment, Jinyoung doesn’t say anything. Jaebum’s words sink slowly into his consciousness.

And then it clicks.

“What the  _ fuck?” _ Jinyoung shouts. “The last leg of the free relay is  _ mine.” _

Jaebum’s jaw clenches visibly. “This wasn’t my decision, okay?” he says. “If you have a problem with it, go take it up with Hyunwoo hyung.”

“ _ If _ I have a problem with it?” Jinyoung scoffs. “Of course I have a fucking problem with it!”

“Jinyoung-ah, don’t make a scene,” Mark says, places what is probably meant to be a placating hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder. But it feels patronising, as if he’s a child throwing a tantrum, and Jinyoung shrugs Mark off roughly.

“I’m not making a scene, I just want to talk,” Jinyoung says aggressively. He glares at Jaebum. “What makes you think you can come in here and steal all of my events? Huh?” He raises a finger to Jaebum’s chest, prods him solidly in the centre of one of his stupid overgrown pec muscles.

Jaebum slaps Jinyoung’s hand away. “Fuck off,” he hisses. “I’m not  _ stealing _ anything – for one, this wasn’t my decision. And for another, you’re still swimming the damn relay, just in a different position!”

“That’s not the point!” yells Jinyoung. 

“Then what is the goddamn point?”

“The point is,” Jinyoung shouts, stepping up closer to Jaebum, rearing himself up to his full height. He refuses to be cowed. “You don’t belong here, and you don’t deserve this. I’m here till midnight almost every single night, swimming my ass off, and you waltz off before the sun even sets, and it’s not  _ fair!” _

Hyunwoo appears in the corner of Jinyoung’s field of vision, striding hastily towards them, Yugyeom and Youngjae trailing in his wake. He looks furious. Whatever. Jinyoung’s furious too.

Jaebum laughs loudly, bitterly. “You’re so fucking full of yourself,” he says derisively, stepping forward, crowding into Jinyoung’s personal space. “You think you’re the only one who works hard? Well, you’re not – so you can take that stick out of your ass and hop off your high horse, cause you’re not better than anyone else here.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that!” Jinyoung shouts, shoving at Jaebum’s chest. It makes Jaebum stumble, but barely.

“Or what?” he scoffs. Steps back towards Jinyoung. Their chests bump. “Or  _ what?” _

Mark reaches out between them. “Guys, please,” he says, but Jinyoung can barely hear anything except the rushing of blood in his ears.

“ _ Don’t touch me _ – just – fuck  _ off, Jaebum!” _ he yells. Places his hands flat on Jaebum’s chest again, shoves him backwards with all his might.

This time, Jaebum stumbles harder. Takes a few steps backwards from the force of Jinyoung’s shove. 

Except he doesn’t have a few steps backwards to go. 

His feet catch on the edge of the pool, and the anger in his face gives way to a brief moment of shock when he realises there is no ground, only water beneath him. And it is with a deafening splash, one that echoes in the otherwise silent room, that Jaebum falls into the pool.

When he surfaces, he looks utterly furious. Pushes his wet hair back from his face as he bobs in the water, glaring at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung looks up. Mark is staring at him in horror. Dotted around the pool, the rest of his teammates are watching him with equivalent expressions of shock on their faces.

And Hyunwoo is stomping up beside him. He looks mad, madder than Jinyoung thinks he’s ever seen him before.

“Both of you!” he thunders. “Locker room! Now!”

Jinyoung scowls, but hangs his head in shame. Now he’s really in trouble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jinyoung is being a massive asshat I'm so sorry lmao,,, I promise things will get better in time
> 
> please leave comments/kudos and come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc


	4. Chapter 4

 

Jinyoung didn’t  _ mean _ to push Jaebum into the water, of course, and he says this to Hyunwoo when their captain sits them both down on the bench in the middle of the locker room. But Hyunwoo just gives him a withering gaze, and Jinyoung falls silent.

“What the hell was that, out there?” Hyunwoo barks. He has his hands on his hips. Jinyoung is amazed that Hyunwoo is even capable of glaring at someone, but the amazement swiftly gives way to guilt, and a twinge of fear. Hyunwoo’s a physically imposing person, which is usually mitigated by his soft, gentle expression. But not right now.

Jaebum shrugs, his hands shoved into the pockets of his tracksuit jacket. “Just a little disagreement,” he mumbles. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t happen again,” snaps Hyunwoo. “I’ve given the two of you some time to sort out your issues, but –  _ fighting?  _ This isn’t okay!”

Jinyoung tries to resist the urge to pout. “We weren’t fighting,” he grumbles. But he can’t quite meet Hyunwoo’s eyes. He hasn’t felt so much like a child in years.

This makes Hyunwoo heave a sigh of frustration. “What do you call that then? And don’t say ‘a little disagreement’ again, Jaebum, I swear to god.” He fixes Jaebum with a stern stare, which makes Jaebum, who had looked like he was about to say something, fall silent.

Hyunwoo rakes his fingers through his hair. “Do either of you want to tell me who started it? Or what the hell happened, even?”

Jinyoung stares at his feet, his fingers gripping the glossy wood of the bench beneath him. It’s his fault, for sure. He was the one who started pushing Jaebum. He doesn’t think Jaebum laid a single finger on him. The realisation fills him with shame.

“It was me,” Jinyoung mumbles. At the same time that Jaebum loudly declares, “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

Hyunwoo squints at them both. “What?” he asks. He doesn’t seem to have heard Jinyoung.

Jaebum clears his throat, sits up a little straighter. Jinyoung states at him, unsure if Jaebum had heard hs admission of guilt, but he gives no indication either way.

“I said, it wasn’t anyone’s fault,” repeats Jaebum. “We were having a, uh –  _ small  _ disagreement. And I slipped.”

A bare-faced lie, given that there were at least ten eyewitnesses – Hyunwoo included – who saw Jinyoung push Jaebum. Whether he’d intended for Jaebum to fall into the pool or not is besides the point. There was no denying that Jinyoung had pushed Jaebum.

After a long pause, Hyunwoo just sighs. He doesn’t look like he believes Jaebum, but he also doesn’t look like he wants to fight. “You could have gotten hurt,” is what he says, tiredly. He rubs at his temples, casts Jinyoung a sideways glance. Jinyoung licks his lips nervously. Guilt crawls beneath his skin, but if Jaebum wants to save his ass, who is he to stop him?

Jaebum makes a vague noise in the back of his throat. “Could’ve, but I didn’t,” he replies. “It’s not a big deal.”

Hyunwoo tilts his head back, stares at the ceiling with his jaw clenched. When he finally looks back at the two of them, he has resignation scrawled across his features. “You know what? I don’t care,” he says. “You’re just lucky Taecyeon hyung isn’t here today or he would have beat both of your asses.

“But you’re on the same team now – you’d both better start acting like it.”

Jinyoung grimaces, but nods obediently. “Won’t happen again,” he promises. And he means it, he really does.

Hyunwoo shakes his head, like he’s a parent disappointed in his children. “Both of you are on clean-up duty after training,” he says. “And you’d better leave it so clean that Kihyun would eat his dinner off it.”

“That’s it?” asks Jinyoung. He’s mildly bewildered. The janitors do a proper clean of the showers and changing rooms once a week, but team captains have historically assigned additional clean-up duty as punishment. As far as punishments go, though, this would be getting off lightly.

“Do you want more?” Hyunwoo replies, raising his eyebrows at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung shakes his head vigorously. “No sir,” he exclaims.

Hyunwoo rolls his eyes. It’s tough being team captain, Jinyoung thinks, an entirely thankless job. “Just get back in the pool and out of my sight before I change my mind.”

 

-

 

Mark’s clearly keeping an eye out for him, because when Jinyoung and Jaebum come trailing miserably out of the locker rooms, Mark stops mid-lap to swim over to the edge of the pool and pull himself out of the water.

“How’d it go?”

Jinyoung makes a face. “Fine,” he grumbles. “We’re on clean-up duty today.”

This makes a looks of surprise cross Mark’s face. “That’s it?” he asks. “You’re lucky.”

It’s not just luck, and Jinyoung knows it. “Jaebum said he slipped,” he explains. When Mark’s eyes widen, Jinyoung shrugs, already anticipating the question. “I don’t know why he did that, before you ask.”

Mark smiles lopsidedly. “Maybe he’s not as bad as you make him out to be.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Jinyoung frowns. “He’s just such an ass, but then again maybe I’m the one being an ass, and – I’m confused.”

Laughing lightly, Mark nudges Jinyoung with his shoulder. “Here’s a thought,” he says. “Maybe take an anger management class.”

Jinyoung glares at him. “I don’t have anger issues,” he snaps, “I’m just  _ aggrieved.  _ Where does all his talent come from? It’s not fair.”

“You mean you’re  _ jealous,” _ clarifies Mark, raising an eyebrow.

The old Jinyoung would have denied this outright. But the new Jinyoung, or at least the one that’s going through a mini-existential crisis, hesitates. “It’s just – I work so hard,” he complains. “Why isn’t that enough?”

Mark shrugs. “Life isn’t fair,” he says. “And besides – maybe he works hard too.”

“I doubt it – I’ve never seen it,” scoffs Jinyoung.

“Wow, I wasn’t aware you were privy to every second of Jaebum’s life,” Mark sing-songs. “Oh, great, omniscient god! I bow down before you!”

Despite everything going on, Jinyoung laughs. “Shut up,” he scolds playfully, slapping Mark on the shoulder. Mark cackles and reaches around him to catch him in a headlock. They both tumble onto the ground in a tangle of limbs.

“Yo, lovebirds!” shouts Sungjin from across the pool. “Stop fooling around, we’re doing time-trials!”

Jinyoung grins and shoves Mark away. Time to swim.

 

-

 

By the time they’re done with training – which included a series of gruelling 800 metre time-trials – Jinyoung is exhausted. But he still has his punishment to serve out, so instead of heading home with the rest of the team, he bids Mark a reluctant farewell.

“Don’t get into another fight, okay?” Mark scolds, ruffling up Jinyoung’s hair, sending tiny droplets of water scattering around them. “Maybe even apologise, as horrifying as that sounds.”

Jinyoung sticks his tongue out at Mark. “Okay,  _ mom,” _ he whines, exaggerating his tone in good-natured mockery.

Mark laughs, pulls Jinyoung into a hug. It’s unexpectedly affectionate from Mark. “I just don’t want you to get yourself kicked off the team,” he says. “Then I’ll just be left here with what, Jackson? Disaster.”

“Come off it, you love Jackson,” Jinyoung teases. Predictably, Mark just waves him away. Mark doesn’t like talking about whatever the hell is going on between him and Jackson. So Jinyoung just grins, nods. “No fighting, I promise.”

“And the apology?”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “I’ll try,” he demurs. Even though he’s fully intending on apologising to Jaebum. He may be hot-tempered, but he’s not a  _ complete _ asshole after all.

It turns out to be more uncomfortable than he’d expected. Jaebum isn’t being rude, per se, but clearly has no interest in talking to Jinyoung. He leads the way into the showers, pulls mops and supplies out of the cleaning cupboard, and starts filling the buckets with soapy water, all without saying a single word to Jinyoung, who’s just left to trail helplessly along behind him.

“How should we split the work?” Jinyoung asks, finally, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Jaebum glances up from the buckets at Jinyoung. “How about you take that side of the showers, I take this side, and we don’t speak to each other?”

He’s not being unreasonable, but it stings. Taste of his own medicine, Jinyoung supposes. He deserves it. Probably deserves worse, to be honest.

“Look,” he starts, as he takes one of the mops from Jaebum, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Jaebum scoffs. He wrings out his mop, starts furiously scrubbing at the scummy tiles. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

Jinyoung purses his lips in thinly veiled frustration. Reminds himself to breathe. Reminds himself that he’s really the one at fault here. He sighs. “Okay, no – I’ve been a dick to you, and I – I’m sorry. It was uncalled for and rude and I will do better from now on.”

This, at least, gives Jaebum pause. He leans on his mop handle, cocks his head at Jinyoung. Like he wasn’t expecting this, like Jinyoung’s just thrown him a curveball that doesn’t fit into his interpretation of the world. Or of Jinyoung.

“Fine,” Jaebum says, finally, “I forgive you.” 

Then he goes back to mopping the floor, and Jinyoung blinks at him in confusion. “Really?”

Jaebum shrugs lightly. “This doesn’t mean we’re friends or anything,” he clarifies, and Jinyoung wants to shout that  _ no, of course they aren’t _ , but somehow he thinks that would shatter the fragile truce they’ve constructed, so he remains silent. “It just means – we’re teammates now, right? I’d have to forgive you at some point, so why not now?”

Makes sense, Jinyoung supposes, but he’s still surprised. “That’s it?” he asks, still wary.

Jaebum almost smiles. “You asked the same thing when Hyunwoo hyung gave us the punishment,” he observes. “Bit self-flagellating, don’t you think?”

Jinyoung scowls. “No, I just – if someone was as much of ass to me as I was to you – I would make them pay for it. At least get them to do some shitty chores for me, or something.”

A small, genuine smile spreads across Jaebum’s face. “Well, I guess we’re just very different people, aren’t we?”

And so they are.

Jinyoung wanders off towards the other end of the shower room with his bucket and mop, starts scrubbing. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy, apologising and being forgiven. But maybe that’s just because Jinyoung would have held on to that grudge for – well, possibly forever.

“Why didn’t you tell Hyunwoo hyung?” he asks, suddenly. 

Jaebum looks up. “Tell him what?”

Jinyoung wrinkles his nose. “That I pushed you.”

There’s a beat of silence. Jaebum looks surprised by the question. “Wasn’t relevant,” is all he says when he finally replies.

That’s just not true, Jinyoung thinks, frowning. He drags his mop across the floor in circles, distracted. “You probably would have gotten out of clean-up duty if you’d told him,” he points out.

“What, and miss this delightful bonding opportunity?”

Jinyoung’s head whips up, annoyed at the sarcastic tone of Jaebum’s voice, and ready to snap something just as curt in response. Then he catches sight of Jaebum’s face – broad grin on his face, eyes watching Jinyoung a twinkling with something like amusement.

He realises, with a start, that Jaebum’s  _ teasing. _

Heat floods Jinyoung’s cheeks at how quick he had been to rise to the bait. “Shut up,” he complains, but it’s without venom.

The suffocating tension between them dissipates a little after that, and though they don’t talk, Jinyoung no longer feels ready to claw his nerves out. But something still weighs on his mind.

“What I said, in the club,” Jinyoung murmurs, pausing on his way back to the cleaning cupboard to put his mop away. Jaebum’s in one of the shower stalls, scrubbing down the tiled walls. He stop and turns to look at Jinyoung. “I didn’t mean, I don’t think.”

It takes Jaebum a second, but he figures out what Jinyoung’s talking about. “What, that you hate me, or that I’m your enemy?”

Jinyoung flushes. “I meant the first one, but it applies to the second too, I guess,” he says. “And I never said thank you, either.”

Jaebum nods slowly, like he’s struggling to process all of this. “That’s okay,” he replies, clearly still cautious, not wanting to say the wrong thing and set Jinyoung off again. “I know you didn’t need my help. I just thought – I thought it would be easier with someone else there.”

“Yeah,” admits Jinyoung, “it was. So thanks.”

He’s wiping down the sinks when Jaebum speaks again. “I’m sorry, too,” he says.

Jinyoung turns to look at him. “Why?”

Jaebum’s leaning against the shower wall, cleaning rag dangling loosely from one hand. “The relay,” he says, vaguely. “I don’t mean to come here and – steal your events. Or whatever.”

It was easier, somehow, to hate Jaebum. To think of him as someone who was cruel and competitive and had come into his life with the sole purpose of ruining it. But now he’s sort of awkwardly hunched over in a cramped shower stall, holding a dirty rag, apologising for something that  _ isn’t even his fault _ – Jinyoung groans internally.

“Don’t,” he says, turning back to the sinks, scrubbing at the limescale stains vigorously. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

This is met with silence, and Jinyoung thinks that maybe the conversation is over, that Jaebum’s gone back to wiping down the showers. So he focuses his attention back on the task at hand. Why are the sinks so  _ dirty? _

But then Jaebum speaks.

“I told Hyunwoo hyung to pull me out of the fifty free,” he says, suddenly, without preamble.

Jinyoung freezes. Raises his eyes to meet Jaebum’s gaze in the mirror. “What? Why?”

“It’s not my event,” Jaebum explains. He has such an air of studied nonchalance about him. “I only swam it with my old team because they didn’t have anyone else to do it.”

That makes sense, Jinyoung supposes, but something twists in him, something that feels like shame. It curdles into anger. “You don’t have to do that for my sake, you know,” he says, trying to remain calm. And sound calm.

“I’m not doing it for you. I told you, it’s not my event. And the team has you, and Yugyeom. You don’t need me.”

Jinyoung turns to face Jaebum. “And yet we need you for the last leg of the relay, apparently,” he argues. Jealousy coils inside him. “If you’re better than me, maybe I should be the one stepping out of the fifty free.”

Jaebum frowns at him. “Don’t get mad at me,” he replies sharply. “I never said I was better than you.”

“I’m not getting mad at you,” snaps Jinyoung. And okay, he sounds a little mad, but mostly it’s just frustration. Everything had been so much simpler before Jaebum arrived and threw it all into disarray. “I just – I don’t understand why you would give up the fifty free. I don’t need your pity, you know?”

This very clearly pisses Jaebum off, because he lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “No one’s  _ pitying _ you,” he says hotly. “Maybe you’re just projecting because you pity yourself.”

“Oh, fuck off, Jaebum,” Jinyoung retorts. “Don’t psychoanalyse me.”

Jaebum rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible to talk to, you know? I can’t say two sentences without you twisting it into something to get angry about.”

“I’m not twisting anything, I just–” Jinyoung trails off. Squeezes his eyes shut. Tries not to undo all the progress they’ve made in the past hour or so. When he opens his eyes again, Jaebum’s looking at him with something maybe approximating concern. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung says. He almost has to squeeze the words out of himself. “Just – trying to be good at this, and then you turning up and being amazing at everything – it’s stressful.”

Jaebum is silent again, for the longest time. His expression is hard as he stares almost unblinkingly at Jinyoung. “I know,” he says, finally.

But he doesn’t know, not really. Not when he’s so fucking talented and doesn’t have to worry about not being good enough, not the way Jinyoung does. The disbelief must show on Jinyoung’s face, though, because Jaebum just lets out a soft, bitter laugh. “You don’t believe me.”

He’s right, and there’s nothing Jinyoung can say to that. So he just shrugs. “I believe that you believe it.”

That’s enough, for now.

 

-

 

Jinyoung wakes up at five in the morning.

He’d gone straight home and to bed after clean-up duty with Jaebum, emotionally exhausted even if not physically. Turns out, his body is confused by how early he goes to bed, and wakes him up three hours before his alarm, wide awake, and unable to fall back asleep.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, after almost an hour of fruitless tossing and turning. Climbs out of bed, decides that he might as well make up for lost time and get a couple hours of training in before lectures.

The weather’s getting colder, and Jinyoung shivers in his puffy coat as he speed walks across campus to the swim centre. He knows Sungjin and Hyunwoo sometimes train in the mornings, but he can’t imagine how and why they manage to find the motivation in the winter. It’s probably why they more often stay late in the evenings instead. 

When he gets to the swim centre, though, pushes through the doors that lead to the pools – he’s met by surprising warmth. A moment of panic hits him, wondering if they’d left the heat on last night. Hyunwoo would have their head if they did.

But no, it’s not warm enough for that.

Then he sees a figure slicing through the water.

He’s seen this same powerful stroke enough times over the last couple of weeks – has stared bitterly at it enough times – to know instantly who it is.

Jaebum reaches the near end of the pool, surfaces and hangs off of the edge, shoulders rising and falling as he breathes heavily. It takes him a moment, but he notices Jinyoung eventually.

“Hey,” he greets, panting slightly. Jinyoung swallows around the tightness in his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to train,” Jinyoung replies flatly. “What are  _ you  _ doing here?”

Jaebum laughs, pulls himself out of the pool. It’s too early in the morning for Jinyoung to be confronted with all of those stupid muscles, and he blinks stupidly. Plus, he’s confused by Jaebum’s presence here.

“Training,” Jaebum says, wandering towards the benches by the side of the pool. “Obviously.”

Jinyoung frowns and follows him. “I didn’t know you trained in the mornings.”

Jaebum shoots him a teasing smirk over his shoulder. “Because you think I’m a lazy fuck who leaves training early, right?”

“No,” objects Jinyoung, huffily. Even though that’s exactly the reason. “I just – Sungjin hyung and Hyunwoo hyung sometimes train in the mornings too, and they’re always complaining about how early they have to wake up, about cold it is. You never talk about it.”

Jaebum sits down, towels at his hair haphazardly. “I’m used to it, I guess,” he explains vaguely, shrugging. “I always train in the morning. My head’s clearer.”

“Wait, what – like, all the time?”

“Yeah. Everyday, basically. Why?”

For some reason, this makes Jinyoung angry. Probably because he’s also embarrassed. He’s said so much shit about Jaebum being lazy, and suddenly here Jaebum is, saying that he’s in the pool every single fucking day before the sun even rises. “Why didn’t you  _ tell me?” _ he asks, and it sounds almost accusatory. But it’s more like a sort of frantic exasperation. 

Jaebum raises an eyebrow at his tone. “You never asked,” he replies breezily. Jinyoung makes a strangled noise of annoyance in the back of his throat.

“What – what time do you get here?” 

Jaebum hums, slinging his towel round his neck. “Like, usually five or six in the morning?”

Jinyoung gapes at him. “ _ Five or six?” _ he repeats. “ _ Every day?” _

“Yeah,” Jaebum confirms. He raises an eyebrow at Jinyoung. “It’s not a big deal, you train till midnight and –  _ why  _ are you looking at me like that?”

“Because!” yells Jinyoung. “I accused you of being lazy so many times, and you just – why did you  _ let me say that?” _

Jaebum shrugs again. “I don’t have to explain myself to anyone,” he says. “You’re entitled to think what you think.”

“Even if what I think is a  _ lie?” _

Jaebum grimaces. “Can you stop shouting? It’s too early in the morning for this.”

“It’s too early in the morning to be realising that everything I’ve hated my arch-enemy for is untrue!” exclaims Jinyoung in agitation.

Despite everything, Jaebum just laughs. It’s a light-hearted, unaffected sound. “I thought I wasn’t your arch-enemy anymore,” he teases.

Jinyoung groans, drops into the seat next to Jaebum. “I thought you were some sort of prodigy,” he says, ignoring Jaebum’s ‘arch-enemy’ comment. “I was so fucking jealous of you, how you seemed to be able to be the best at everything without even trying.” 

“You think I’m the best at everything?” 

Jinyoung turns and glares at Jaebum, who’s wearing a stupid, shit-eating grin. “Shut up,” Jinyoung snaps irritably. It does nothing to the grin on Jaebum’s face. Jinyoung rolls his eyes, sighs. “You should have told me.”

The cheeky grin on Jaebum’s face morphs into a small smile. His features soften, and there’s a sudden warmth in his eyes. Jinyoung’s heart leaps in his chest. They’re a lot closer than he’d realised.

“You should have asked,” Jaebum replies, his voice low.

Jinyoung clears his throat, tears his eyes away. There’s a weird energy between them, all of sudden, and he doesn’t know where it’s come from. But the air between them crackles with electricity. “Yeah, well,” he mumbles. 

Then Jaebum tips his head back and laughs. “Do you hate me less now?” he asks, leaning back on his hands and cocking his head at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung wrinkles up his nose at Jaebum. “I never  _ hated _ you,” he says. “I just – disliked you.”

Jaebum smirks. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it was a  _ very strong _ dislike.”

“Does this mean you like me now?”Jaebum teases, grinning lopsidedly. And it’s so effortless, and so charming, that Jinyoung has to look away again. When did being around Jaebum get so unnerving?

“No, I just dislike you less,” grumbles Jinyoung.

This draws another laugh out of Jaebum, and despite himself, Jinyoung finds himself smiling. It’s a good laugh, Jinyoung thinks. Unrestrained, but not obnoxious. Just – uplifting.

“Come on,” Jaebum says, getting to his feet. He reaches out a hand towards Jinyoung. “We’ll train together?”

Jinyoung hesitates for the barest of seconds. 

But then he reaches out, slips his hand into Jaebum’s. Allows himself to be tugged to his feet. 

They exchange a smile. It feels like a new beginning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I lowkey think this chapter is kinda bleh but like,,,, it sets things up for the next chapter, which I am SUPER EXCITED TO WRITE !!! because of REASONS !!!
> 
> anyway please leave a comment/kudos and um come talk to me or summn - @notionxally on twitter or cc


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w: brief mention of people throwing up

 

They reach a sort of no man’s land – not enemies, but not quite friends either. 

Which is fine, Jinyoung knows plenty of people he would consider neither friends nor enemies. But the thing that makes this strange is that all of Jinyoung’s friends seem to have accepted Jaebum with extraordinary ease. Which means that Jinyoung sees Jaebum  _ all the time. _ Not just at training, but at team dinners, movie nights at Jackson’s, nights out at the bar.

And at tonight’s house party, probably. 

Yugyeom and Bambam are throwing a party at their place– an off-campus house that they share with four other guys. Jungkook’s on the swim team as well, though Jinyoung doesn’t know him well, and the other three guys he knows only by name and face – Mingyu, DK, and Minghao.

But if there’s one thing Yugyeom and Bambam know how to do, it’s throw a party. Which means the entire swim team is invited, along with the god knows how many other people those six boys collectively know. It’s going to be the ‘party of the year’, if Bambam’s words are to be trusted, which they usually aren’t – but when it comes to parties Jinyoung knows better than to doubt him.

So he’s standing in his poky studio apartment, holding up various outfits against himself, while Mark gives them the nod of approval or head-shake of ‘what the fuck are you thinking’. So far, everything Jinyoung’s picked has fallen into the latter category.

“What’s wrong with this one?” complains Jinyoung, but he obediently chucks the blue and white striped shirt aside.

Mark rolls his eyes. “It’s too ‘lesbian at a barbeque’,” he says sharply. “Not enough ‘young, virile, college boy on the hunt for dick’.”

Jinyoung pulls a face. “Gross,” he replies. “I’m not  _ on the hunt _ for anything.”

“Well, you should be,” says Mark. He waves away the pale blue button down that Jinyoung holds up. “You’re too uptight. Maybe someone’s dick in you would do you good.”

“How do you know I want someone’s dick in me? Maybe I want my dick in someone,” Jinyoung shoots back. Even though he doesn’t really want either. He has enough to focus on, with studies and swimming and trying not to get too demoralised by the fact that ever since Jaebum’s arrival he’s now one step further away from being the star swimmer of the team.

Mark is unfazed. “We get it, you’re switchy,” he hums. Points at something in Jinyoung’s closet. “That jacket, the bomber jacket. Wear that.”

It’s not his usual style, but Jinyoung had bought it on a whim because he’d liked the way it looked on him. He pulls on a soft grey t-shirt, shrugs the jacket on over it. “How’s this?”

Mark shoots him two thumbs-up. “Finally, something that doesn’t shout ‘boring nerd’,” he says approvingly.

“I  _ am _ a boring nerd,” grumbles Jinyoung. But he studies himself in the mirror, and yeah, he looks good.

“I know you are,” Mark says, getting up from the bed and walking over to run his fingers through Jinyoung’s hair. Ruffles it up. “But for once I’d like to go to a party with someone who looks like they belong there.”

Jinyoung sticks out his tongue at Mark. “Rude,” he scolds. But he trusts Mark, beautiful Mark with his angelic features and devilish grin. Mark who looks annoyingly good right now, in his skinny jeans and a silky button-up that hangs almost off his shoulders, displaying an unholy amount of collarbone. If Mark wasn’t so  _ Mark, _ Jinyoung might even be attracted to him.

“I have news for you,” Mark says, an abrupt non sequitur. Jinyoung cocks his head at him. “But you have to promise not to get mad.”

Jinyoung scoffs exaggeratedly. “Me?” he asks, in an incredulous voice. “Get mad? I would  _ never.” _

“Very funny,” Mark replies. He drops back down onto the bed, leans back on his hands. “Jackson told me that they’re thinking about the new team captain. Hyunwoo, and Taecyeon hyung.”

“Yeah?” mumbles Jinyoung distractedly. He peers at himself in the mirror. “Should I put some eyeliner on? Feels like it would go with the messy hair.”

Mark makes a surprised yelp of delight. “Hell, yes, you almost  _ never  _ let me put eyeliner on you,” he exclaims.

Jinyoung grins. “Well, you know,” he says lightly, plucking an eyeliner pencil out if his top dresser drawer, where it mostly lies forgotten amongst his watches and cufflinks and other more regularly touched items. “Party of the year and all that.”

“Or maybe just a party with someone you’d like to impress,” replies Mark, with a knowing wink.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” sing-songs Jinyoung in return. He leans into the mirror, starts to rub the pencil along his lash line. He’s done this before, but rarely, and the sensation is still weird. He blinks a few times to get his eyes to stop watering. “Tell me about the captain thing.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mark folds his legs up underneath him. “Well, you know, it’s that time of year, the fourth-years are all panicking about exams and graduation, it’s time to pass the torch on, yadda yadda.”

Jinyoung nods. He puts the pencil down, steps back to admire his handiwork. “That’s hardly news,” he says. “Happens every year.”

“Yes, but – guess who’s in the running this year?”

Jinyoung pauses mid-ruffle of his hair. Turns to look at Mark. “Seriously?” he asks. “But he’s so new!”

Mark shrugs. “He was pretty much definitely going to become captain at his old school, apparently. Something about leadership potential.”

“Yeah, maybe,” says Jinyoung off-handedly. But he’s starting to see Jaebum in a new light, has started to appreciate how hard-working and dedicated he is. It isn’t the most outrageous suggestion. All he says, though, is, “I don’t care.”

A disbelieving frown furrows Mark’s brow. “Seems out of character for you,” he murmurs. 

Jinyoung turns to face Mark, folds his arms across his chest. “I don’t particularly want to be captain,” he says, which is true. “I never have. You know this.” Too much admin and having to deal with the university and negotiate more funding and just – boring stuff. Jinyoung just wants to swim.

Mark shrugs. “Sure, but – we all kind of thought you would end up doing it. Who else would?”

“You could do it,” suggests Jinyoung, but Mark just laughs.

“Hell no, I’d be terrible at it, and besides – I don’t want to,” he replies. “Same for Jackson. And Sungjin could do it, except he already has his band and there’s no way he’s going to able to be swim captain on top of that.” Mark pauses, raises an eyebrow at Jinyoung. “Which leaves you.”

“Which  _ used to  _ leave me,” corrects Jinyoung. “Now it also leaves Jaebum. And if he wants to do it, he should.”

Mark cocks his head at Jinyoung. He looks confused. “You do realise if no one runs against him, he’ll win by default, right?”

“Yes, I’ve been on this team as long as you have, I know how things work,” Jinyoung replies, rolling his eyes. “Do you  _ want _ me to run, or something?”

Mark shakes his head. “No, do what you want,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good that you’re being so chill about it. It’s just...surprising.”

It is indeed a little surprising – even though Jinyoung has absolutely no interest in being swim captain, he can see how the position would probably have fallen to him default, at least until Jaebum turned up. And he supposes that, given his track record when it came to Jaebum, it makes sense that Mark would be wary about telling him. But all Jinyoung feels is an idle sense of ‘good for him, not for me’.

“Being captain just means more time doing stupid shit, less time swimming,” Jinyoung says. Tries not to think too hard about when he started becoming so cool-headed about things, or why. He extends a hand to Mark. “Now come on – let’s go.”

 

-

 

The party is in full swing by the time Mark and Jinyoung arrive. They let themselves in the front door, straight into a wall of sound – thumping bass and people singing loudly and out of tune, not to mention periodic cheers echoing from various corners of the house, presumably whenever someobe downs a drink or takes a shot or something. 

Yugyeom and Bambam are nowhere to be seen, but they bump into Youngjae, who’s wandering down the stairs in a cloud of weed smoke. Jinyoung wrinkles his nose at the rank smell.

“Hyung, you’re here,” Youngjae mumbles, grinning blearily at them.

“Yeah,” replies Mark. “Where are the others?”

Youngjae giggles. Even though there’s nothing worth laughing at. “Dunno,” he slurs, “but Jackson hyung is upstairs. We’re in DK’s room.” 

Specifically,  _ hotboxing _ in DK’s room, Jinyoung thinks. He has nothing against weed, not in theory, but the smell of it makes him want to vomit. Mark, on the other hand…

Youngjae disappears into the crowd, mumbling something about getting more beers. Mark glances at Jinyoung, hesitates.

“Just go, I know you want to,” sighs Jinyoung. The weed is one thing, but weed plus Jackson? Jinyoung knows when he’s fighting a losing battle.

Mark grins at him, flashing his beautiful, perfect teeth. “Thanks,” he says, dragging Jinyoung in and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, which Jinyoung squirms away from. “Go have fun – and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Jinyoung shoves Mark away. “No danger of that,” he grumbles. “Now go get your man.”

“Not my man!” Mark calls out, but he’s already bounding up the stairs. Whatever weird mating dance is going on between Mark and Jackson, Jinyoung doesn’t understand or want to think about. They’ve kissed drunkenly – or while stoned – plenty if times, but for some reason neither of them wants to take the first sober step.

Instead, Jinyoung just makes his way to the kitchen to get himself a drink. None of whatever the bright orange liquid in the punchbowl is – knowing Bambam it’s probably strong enough to clean bathrooms with.

He takes his beer and wanders through the house, trying to find people he knows. Hyolyn makes him do a couple of shots with her, but then she gets accosted by a swarm of the swim girls and Jinyoung loses her to the crowd. He finishes his drink, takes another one – jack and coke, it tastes like – from Minhyuk, finds himself back in the kitchen for another beer.

Jaebum’s standing there, reaching into the fridge for a beer, in a black t-shirt that fits snugly on him, really emphasises the breadth of his shoulders. Jinyoung falters in the doorway, unsure whether he should say hello or not. But then Jaebum notices him, which makes the decision for him. Jinyoung heart does a little stutter as Jaebum smiles and cocks his head at the fridge as if to say ‘want one?’

“Yeah, go on,” Jinyoung murmurs. He steps forward and takes the bottle that Jaebum offers him. Pops the cap off with the bottle opener lying on the counter.

He leans back again the counter, taking slow sips from his bottle. Next to him, Jaebum does the same. There’s a silence between them, despite all the noise of the party, one that’s not tense, but not quite comfortable either. Jinyoung has half a mind to just make some excuse and walk away, when Jaebum speaks.

“Where’s Mark?” he asks.

Jinyoung looks at him. He has a nice face, he thinks. A crisply-cut jawline and high cheekbones. Eyes that always seem to be smiling. 

But that’s just the alcohol talking. Jinyoung blinks the haze away, clears his throat. “Upstairs,” he says, a little too loudly, too forcefully. Tries to temper it down a little, adds in a quieter voice, “with Youngjae, and Jackson.”

Jaebum hums, takes a sip from his beer. “You didn’t go with him?”

“Ew, nah – they’re smoking up there, and weed’s not really my thing,” Jinyoung replies, scrunching up his nose. “Smells like rotten socks.”

A light laugh escapes Jaebum. “I feel you,” he agrees. Glances sidelong at Jinyoung. “Thought you’d be hanging out with Mark anyway, though. Since, you know.”

And no, Jinyoung doesn’t know. He frowns. “Since what?”

“Well,” Jaebum says, and then he hesitates. Licks his lips. Jinyoung’s eyes drop to his mouth before he even notices what he’s doing. “Aren’t you and Mark, like – a thing?”

Jinyoung inhales sharply, chokes on his own spit. “Excuse me?” he asks, in undisguised horror. “Is that what you think? Is that what people think? That Mark and I are a  _ thing?” _

His dramatic reaction seems to alarm Jaebum. “No!” he says quickly, then stumbles to clarify. “I mean – I don’t know what people think, it’s just what I sort of – assumed.”

Jinyoung juts his lower lip out petulantly. “You shouldn’t assume things,” he grumbles.

Jaebum slowly regains his composure, and a grin spreads across his features as he does. “You’re just so –  _ affectionate  _ with each other,” he says. 

“Because we’re friends!” cries out Jinyoung.

Laughing, Jaebum holds out his hands in front of him. “It’s not an insult!” he defends. “You’re both very good-looking guys.”

Jinyoung’s breath catches in his throat. Did Jaebum just call him good-looking?

Jaebum seems to notice his mistake, because he suddenly looks away from Jinyoung. Clears his throat loudly, a little too loudly. And maybe it’s the dim light, but Jinyoung thinks he can see the slightest flush creeping across Jaebum’s cheeks. He doesn’t quite understand the warm feeling that spreads across his chest at the thought that maybe – just  _ maybe _ – Jaebum is blushing.

It’s then that Bambam and Lisa charge into the kitchen, a flurry of long-limbs as they clatter into Jaebum and Jinyoung. “Oh, hello!” shouts Bambam, excitedly, grabbing hold of Jinyoung’s shoulders. Lisa starts banging open cupboards, one after the other, in a haphazard search for something. Bambam leaves her to it, just shakes Jinyoung and yells, “Jägerbombs!”

And so, quite against Jinyoung’s will, he ends up being dragged – along with Jaebum – back out into the living room, where Yugyeom and Jungkook are eagerly pouring out cans after cans of some supermarket house brand energy drink into a row of plastic cups. Lisa toddles after them, brandishing a large bottle of Jägermeister. Bambam takes the bottle from her, unscrews the cap and chucks it with great flourish across the room, and starts to top up each of the cups with a generous dose of the thick, brown alcohol.

“I don’t really –” Jinyoung starts to protest, but Bambam just shoves a cup into his hands, does the same to Jaebum. Then he’s off, back to the centre of the room, collecting more cups to distribute to the rest of the partygoers.

Jinyoung glances at Jaebum, makes a face. “I haven’t had one of these in ages,” he says.

“Me neither,” Jaebum replies. He looks down at his cup for a brief moment, then back up at Jinyoung. There’s an open, genuine smile on his face. It’s so comfortable, so reassuring. “Still – why not, right?”

Why not indeed?

Jinyoung returns the smile, lifts his cup to symbolically clink against Jaebum’s. The plastic cups bump together without a sound. “Bottoms up,” Jinyoung says, and knocks his drink back.

The alcohol burns in the back of his throat, but it’s also sweet, and cloying. It feels instantly like a headrush. Jinyoung shakes his head, lets out a sharp exhale of air. The music is all of a sudden far, far too loud, and the ground whirls beneath him. He stumbles forwards, veers into Jaebum.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Jinyoung replies. And he is, really, he just drank the jägerbomb far too quickly. He blinks hard a couple of times to clear his head, waits as the world steadies around him again.

But Jaebum is still peering at him with concern, leaning forward, one hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder. His brow is furrowed, eyes bright and alert. Their faces are unnervingly close to each other’s. Jinyoung feels breathless.

“I just – need some air,” he says quickly, blinking and looking away.

Jaebum straightens up. His hand drops to gently rest against Jinyoung’s elbow. It’s the lightest touch, but Jinyoung’s brain can’t stop focusing on it. He licks his lips, swallows around the sudden dryness in his mouth. 

“Do you want to go outside?” Jaebum asks.

 

-

 

They stand, leaning against the back wall of the house. It’s chilly, but not freezing out. There are huddles of people Jinyoung doesn’t know scattered around the back garden, some of them smoking, some of them just holding drinks and chatting. Some of the making out against the garden wall. Jinyoung tries not to look at those people.

They’ve lost their beers somewhere in the house, but Jinyoung feels light-headed enough, doesn’t think he needs another drink. Shoves his hands into his pockets so they aren’t just hanging awkwardly by his side. He can see his breath spiraling out of his mouth like tendrils of smoke.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me anymore,” says Jaebum, suddenly. Jinyoung turns, only to see that Jaebum is already looking at him. He doesn’t understand the look in Jaebum’s eyes.

He could deny, once again, that he’s ever hated Jaebum. But Jinyoung doesn’t think that matters. So he just smiles, shrugs. “Me too,” he replies.

Jaebum hums contentedly, tilts his head back and leans it against the wall. Jinyoung watches him as he watches the stars in the sky.

“Can I tell you something?” Jaebum asks. He turns his head slightly towards Jinyoung, without taking it off from against the wall. Jinyoung’s eyes trail down the long arch of his neck, from the slice of his jaw to his collarbones. 

It’s only after a beat that Jinyoung realises he’s staring. “Uh, sure,” he mumbles. “What is it?”

Jaebum hesitates. “I don’t want to make you mad at me again.”

Something flutters in Jinyoung’s gut, something like trepidation, but also anticipation. “Then don’t tell me something that will make me mad,” he teases, voice light, but half of him starts to twist with worry.

“Hyunwoo hyung came to speak to me yesterday,” Jaebum says. And that’s not what Jinyoung was expecting – though he has no idea what he was expecting. Something that wouldn’t have made any sense.

But this, he supposes, at least makes sense.

“Is this about the captaincy?”

Jaebum looks, for a moment, surprised that Jinyoung already knows. “Yeah,” he says, sheepishly. “He wanted me to run for it.”

Jinyoung makes a murmur of acknowledgement. “What did you tell him?”

“I said I would think about it,” replies Jaebum. “I mean – I might not even get it, if no one votes for me.”

“You will, if no one runs against you,” Jinyoung says. He cocks his head at Jaebum. Wonders why Jaebum is telling him all of this.

Jaebum shrugs, looks down. “Surely people will – I’m so new here. They can’t possibly be okay with me being captain.”

He’s saying ‘they’, but Jinyoung can’t help but think – maybe he’s asking if Jinyoung will be okay with it. And, to Jinyoung’s own surprise, he thinks he is.

“I don’t think anyone is going to run against you,” says Jinyoung.

Jaebum frowns at his shoes. “Not even you?”

He seems confused, like he would have expected Jinyoung to do anything he could to get in his way. The thought stings a little. Jinyoung doesn’t want to think about why. 

“You’d be a good captain, I think,” he says, before he can overthink it and stop himself. Jaebum raises his gaze, and their eyes meet. A current of electricity crackles between them. Jinyoung can feel his heart rate speeding up. Even in the cool nighttime air, his skin feels like its burning.

“Yeah?” asks Jaebum, and his voice is so low, so quiet, that it’s almost a whisper. It makes Jinyoung’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Yeah,” he replies, breathlessly.

Their faces are really close to each other’s, and Jinyoung can’t help himself – his eyes drop to Jaebum’s lips, taking in how soft and plump they look. He wonders if they feel soft too. 

Jaebum swallows, and Jinyoung can see the bobbing of his adam’s apple.

The party rages on around them, but the noise fades into static. All Jinyoung can hear is the blood rushing in his eardrums like waves crashing into the shore. 

When their lips touch, it feels like an inevitability they had been careening towards from the moment they’d met. Jaebum’s hands come to rest on Jinyoung’s waist, large and warm and solid against him. His lips are burning hot, and kissing them makes Jinyoung feel like he’s ablaze.

His body coils with desire, and a soft moan escapes him. Jaebum’s hands tighten around Jinyoung’s hip bones, his tongue licking out and slipping between Jinyoung’s lips. He tastes sweet, and a little hoppy from the beer. Jinyoung licks his tongue against Jaebum’s, his arms sliding onto Jaebum’s shoulders, his hands combing into Jaebum’s hair.

“Jinyoung-ah,” exhales Jaebum, his lips moving against Jinyoung’s, and sound of his name sends shockwaves ricocheting through Jinyoung. He groans, takes a steps back, tugging Jaebum along with him, until he feels his back against the wall. Jaebum’s kissing him more forcefully now, pressing him into the wall, and Jinyoung can barely form a coherent thought, all he can focus on is Jaebum’s lips on his, and their bodies flush against each other’s.

Then the door into the hour shoots open, right next to where Jinyoung and Jaebum are standing. Jinyoung shoves Jaebum away, both of his hands on his chest, but Jaebum’s already leaping away himself.

“Jinyoungie, there you are, can you help me get Jackson home–” Mark’s comes stomping out of the house, but stops mid-sentence when he sees Jinyoung and Jaebum. Pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

They aren’t even  _ touching, _ now, but they’re standing awkwardly a few feet apart, and Jinyoung is pretty sure the look on his face matches the guilty one on Jaebum’s.

“What’s going on here?” Mark asks, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Nothing, we’re just talking!” replies Jinyoung quickly. His voice is a little squeaky. He clears his throat, tries again. “Is Jackson okay?”

Mark doesn’t stop levelling a suspicious glance at them, but he nods slowly in response to Jinyoung’s question. “Drank too much, smoked too much, drank too much again,” he explains. “He’s just stopped throwing up, but he can barely stand on his own two feet. I need you to help me.”

Jinyoung coughs. He can’t bring himself to look at Jaebum. “Yeah, of course,” he mumbles. Rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s go.”

He stumbles towards Mark, who frowns and glances past him, at Jaebum.

“Having a good night, Jaebum?” Mark asks, cocking his head to one side. Jinyoung feels his cheeks flood with colour. Keeps his head ducked, still not looking at either Mark of Jaebum.

“Uh, yeah,” Jinyoung hears Jaebum reply sheepishly. “You?”

Mark grins. Jinyoung raises his gaze to glare at him. “Fine – not as good a night as some other are having, of course,” he says. Jaebum clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything. Jinyoung is ready to evaporate.

“Let’s  _ go,”  _ he repeats, grabbing Mark by the wrist and dragging him into the house.

“Bye, Jaebum!” Mark calls out brightly. “See you Monday!”

Once they’re back inside the house, Mark starts to laugh. He lets Jinyoung pull him along, but doesn’t stop giggling behind him. 

“What was  _ that _ about?” Mark teases.

“Nothing,” replies Jinyoung grumpily. He scans the living room. “Where’s Jackson?”

“Didn’t look like nothing to me,” says Mark. He ignores Jinyoung’s question about their poor old intoxicated friend, because apparently gossip is more important than friendship.

Jinyoung scoffs. “You’re high, it’s making you paranoid,” he says. Spots Jackson slumped over on the sofa, next to Yugyeom, who’s trying to get him to drink a glass of water, and tugs Mark along in that direction. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Mark mumbles. Jinyoung can hear the smug grin in his voice. 

He doesn’t dignify Mark’s comment with an answer, but the question circles in his head like an eagle waiting to swoop.

What  _ was _ that about?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!! I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER ahhhhh it wasn't originally going to happen like this but while writing chapter 4 the idea came to me and so yep :) did any of you guess what my "REASONS" for being excited for this chapter were?
> 
> the more I write this the more chapters this fic gets... my outline went from being 4-6 chapters to 9 chapters now (and counting) - I am just really in love with this whole swim universe ahhhhh
> 
> hope you guys are liking it, thank you so much for all the kind comments here and on twt/cc! if you wanna ask me anything or shout at me or whatever, i'm @notionxally on twitter or cc :))


	6. Chapter 6

 

When Jinyoung turns up at training on Monday, Jaebum’s already there, talking to Hyunwoo and Taecyeon. Presumably about him running for captaincy. But Jaebum looks up, when Jinyoung enters, and their eyes meet across the pool.

Jinyoung immediately ducks into the shower rooms. Facing things head on isn’t his strong suit.

Mark must have spotted him as well, because he follows Jinyoung into the showers, corners him against the sinks before he has a chance to run away.

“You have to talk to him,” Mark insists. Jinyoung had told Mark what had happened at the party, of course, because they’re best friends. But also because Mark is a persistent monster who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.

“I’m not going to talk to him,” replies Jinyoung primly. He casts a glance around the shower rooms to make sure no one else is there. When he’s confirmed that they’re alone, Jinyoung turns back to glare at Mark. “It was a drunken mistake. We’re never talking about it again.”

Mark hops up onto the counter, swings his long legs back and forth. “Yeah, okay,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes Jinyoung. “You liked it, though.”

This draws an indignant scoff from Jinyoung. “When did I say that?”

“Didn’t need to,” replies Mark. “I know you.”

“You  _ think  _ you know me,” corrects Jinyoung snappishly. He rummages in his bag for his swim trunks. “Now can you leave? I need to change.”

Mark sticks his tongue out. “You need to change your  _ attitude,” _ he scolds. “How are you going to get any dick if you keep acting like you don’t care?”

“I don’t want to get any dick!” hisses Jinyoung.

And then, because Jinyoung’s life is an endless joke, someone clears their throat self-consciously. “Uh,” comes Jaebum’s voice from the entrance to the shower rooms, “is this a bad time?”

Mark grins, winks at Jinyoung as he leaps down from the counter with surprising grace. “No, it’s a great time!” calls out Mark, sauntering towards the entrance, where Jaebum’s hovering hesitatingly. Jinyoung doesn’t miss the smirk that Mark casts Jaebum. “Have a good chat, guys,” Mark sing-songs as he disappears from view.

Jinyoung scowls, turning away from Jaebum to fumble about in his bag aimlessly. Just for something to do with his hands while he studiously tries to ignore Jaebum.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, “can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” says Jinyoung. He yanks his swim trunks out of his bag. “I have to change!” he declares with finality, dives into one of the shower stalls, dragging the curtain shut behind him.

To his utter dismay, Jaebum doesn’t leave. Instead, just starts talking to him through the shower curtain. 

“What happened at the party,” Jaebum starts, as Jinyoung’s pulling his shirt off. “Can we talk about that?”

Jinyoung makes a strangled noise of protest. “Like I said,” he says, staggering ungracefully out of his jeans, “nothing to talk about.”

“I just don’t want to make things weird between us,” Jaebum adds.

“Things aren’t weird!” yells Jinyoung in return. He’s trying to pull his trunks on, but the panic of having this conversation with Jaebum is making him far less coordinated than he needs to be. 

He hears Jaebum laugh. “You don’t think this is weird?” he asks. There’s a note of teasing evident in his tone, and Jinyoung feels the flush rise to his cheeks.

“Can we not talk about this when I have my dick out,  _ please?” _ he chokes out.

A moment of silence, then Jaebum coughs. “Let’s not talk about your dick,” he mumbles.

Jinyoung thinks he might die of embarrassment right there, on the spot. His face is burning. “No one is talking about anyone’s dick!” he screams, desperately wrestling his trunks up his legs, snapping them in place around his hips. “I’ll talk to you when I’m out, just – just,  _ shut up _ now!”

Jaebum doesn’t say anything, which Jinyoung supposes is him following instructions. He takes a moment to collect himself, carefully folding up his discarded clothes. Inhales deeply, exhales slowly. Fans himself to cool his flaming cheeks.

When he finally pulls open the shower curtain, Jinyoung thinks he’s calmed down again. But then he sees Jaebum standing there, arms folded across his unfairly broad chest, leaning back against the sinks, his hair wet and slicked back from his forehead. And Jinyoung’s heart starts to hammer in his chest again.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, and he sounds almost –  _ shy. _ The thought makes Jinyoung’s stomach clench.

“Here I am now,” replies Jinyoung. He starts shoving his clothes into his bag, anything to have an excuse to avoid Jaebum’s gaze. “What did you want to say?”

Jaebum’s looking at him, he can tell. His gaze sizzles against Jinyoung’s skin, like the sunlight filtered through a magnifying glass. 

“I just – I want to make sure we’re okay,” Jaebum says, carefully. 

Jinyoung licks his lips. Turns slowly to face Jaebum. “What does okay mean?” he asks.

There’s a sudden unease in the air between them. Jinyoung tries to ignore it, even though his entire body is responding by tensing up in anticipation. He doesn’t know if Jaebum has noticed it.

“Okay, like – we’re friends,” starts Jaebum. He looks at Jinyoung intently, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. “Or, I don’t know–”

He trails off, and Jinyoung really wants to know what lies at the other end of the sentence. But another half of him really doesn’t want to know, so he cuts Jaebum off.

“Yeah, we’re friends,” he says, firmly. “People do things when drunk, right? No big deal.”

Jaebum hesitates. Then he nods, starts to smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. “No big deal. Friends.”

Friends, Jinyoung thinks. That’s fine. That’s absolutely fine.

 

-

 

Jaebum makes captain.

No surprises there. Hyunwoo had approached Jinyoung to check if he wanted to run – apparently he was doing the same with all the third year swimmers – and Jinyoung had said no. Everyone else had said no, as well, which meant that all that was left was the formality of actually nominating and electing Jaebum at a team meeting. Which they end up doing after a training session later in the week, before Bambam hooted and declared that they were all going to a team dinner to celebrate.

So Jinyoung finds himself sitting at the end of one of the two long tables in the restaurant Bambam had managed to book at the last minute, watching as Sungjin throws his arm around Jaebum whispers in his ear. Jinyoung can’t hear what they’re saying, because Jaebum had been whisked off to the other end of the table, but whatever it is it makes Jaebum let out a bark of laughter.

“You know,” muses Mark quietly, from next to him, as he delicately places a piece of belly pork into his mouth, “jealousy’s not a good look on you.”

All this does is make Jinyoung’s scowl darken. “I’m not jealous,” he hisses. And he’s not, really. He and Jaebum had agreed that they were just friends, and that the kiss didn’t mean anything. He’s just a little grumpy, because he’s Jaebum’s friend too, and he’s being ignored. That’s all.

Mark hums lightly. “Yeah, right,” he mumbles. Takes a sip of his soju. “You’re not a good liar, you know.”

“You take that back, I’m an excellent liar,” grumbles Jinyoung. He knocks back a cup of his soju.

Mark just shrugs. “Not to me, at least. Not about your feelings. Remember when you had a crush on Hyunwoo in first year?”

Jinyoung looks around them in a panic. Thankfully, it’s reached the point in the dinner when people are drunkenly crowded around Jaebum, shouting congratulations at him and making him drink. Which means there’s no one near Mark and Jinyoung to overhear them.

“Will you  _ shut up?” _ snaps Jinyoung, in any case. He doesn’t want to think about that embarrassing piece of his past. 

Mark looks unapologetic. “I’m just saying, as your best friend – I know what your jealous face looks like.”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “And what, pray tell, does it look like?”

“Well – do you have a mirror with you?”

Heaving a sigh, Jinyoung just grumpily pours himself another cup of soju. “I’m not jealous,” he repeats, somewhat futilely. Because yeah, maybe he’s a little bit jealous. But not because he likes Jaebum, or anything. He just likes the attention.

“If you wanted to kiss him again, why didn’t you just tell him that?”

Jinyoung’s eyes dart around in panic. Still no one’s listening, thankfully, but that doesn’t mean he likes the idea of Mark talking about this in public. “I don’t want to kiss him again,” he retorts in a low whisper.

“I’m not saying you want to marry him or anything,” hisses Mark in return. “But you’re obviously  _ attracted _ to him. Why is that so hard for you to admit?”

Jinyoung makes a choked noise in the back of his throat. “Why do you want me to admit that?”

“Because,” says Mark, letting out an exasperated sigh, “I’m your best friend, and I have your best interests at heart.”

“How is  _ tormenting  _ me ‘having my best interests at heart’?” grumbles Jinyoung. “Besides, you should take your own advice – what’s going on with you and Jackson?”

Mark, for once, looks abashed. He glances down the table, at where Jackson has his arms slung around Yugyeom, his chin hooked into the crook of Yugyeom’s neck. “I – I’m working on it,” Mark says. He sounds resigned.

“Working on it  _ how?” _ prods Jinyoung. “You’ve been working on it for years.”

Mark twists his lips into a grimace. “You know what Jacks is like,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to just be one of his flings.”

Jinyoung’s heart clenches for his best friend. He reaches over, tangles his fingers with Mark’s. “I don’t think you’ll ever be ‘just a fling’ to Jackson,” he says, reassuringly. Mark sighs, returns his smile.

“It’s fine,” Mark mumbles, shaking his head. “I’ll figure it out. But you – stop changing the subject.”

Maybe it’s Mark’s moment of vulnerability, or maybe it’s just the soju going to Jinyoung’s head. Whatever it is, he feels a sudden surge of blind courage. 

“I don’t know if I  _ like _ him,” says Jinyoung, softly, slowly. Trying to find the words to fit his feelings into. There’s a tangled mess in his chest that he’s still trying to unravel. “But I guess – kissing him was fun? And I wouldn’t say no to doing it again?”

Mark hums contemplatively. He doesn’t tease Jinyoung about this, and Jinyoung is grateful. That’s why they’re best friends. Mark knows when to poke fun, and when to take things seriously. “Why don’t you want to tell him that, though?”

Jinyoung makes a face, scrunches his nose up. “Because I’m a coward,” he says. “And because – well, he hasn’t treated me any differently since.”

“And that’s bad, why?”

“It’s not bad, it’s just –” Jinyoung sighs, rubs at the bridge of his nose. “It’s stupid.”

Mark cocks his head to the side. “I’m sure it’s not,” he says. “Tell me.”

Jinyoung pouts, rests his chin in his hands. “I’m worried that he started being nice to me only so that I wouldn’t run for captain against him.”

This is evidently not what Mark had expected, because his eyes widen, and he goes silent for a moment. Jinyoung watches as he processes this statement, then reaches over and slides a hand across the nape of Jinyoung’s neck. Rubs his fingers soothingly into the base of Jinyoung’s scalp.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he says. His eyes are bright, and alive with sincerity. “If that’s the only thing you’re worried about, just – well, don’t.”

Jinyoung knows Mark’s probably right. But it doesn’t stop him from wondering. 

He looks across the table, down to where Jaebum’s grinning at Jackson, who’s gesticulating wildly as he speaks. Jaebum must notice Jinyoung’s eyes on him, because he suddenly looks over, and their eyes meet. Jinyoung’s heart jumps. Jaebum shoots him a small smile, but Jinyoung just tears his gaze away.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, to Mark. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

Mark doesn’t look like he believes him. Jinyoung doesn’t think he believes himself either.

 

-

 

Jinyoung doesn’t speak to Jaebum for almost a week after that. But not because either one of them are ignoring or avoiding the other. They just don’t seek each other out, and that’s fine. That’s just back to normal, really.

But then Jaebum comes up to him after training one day, and Jinyoung can’t help the jittery feeling that he gets in his chest. 

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Jaebum asks. Jinyoung glances around. The rest of the team are already filing out of the swim hall. He catches Mark’s eye across the room. Mark looks surprised, but encouraging. Gives him a thumbs up. Jinyoung grimaces and waves him away.

“Yeah,” he says, turning his attention back to Jaebum. “Go ahead.”

Jaebum shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Jinyoung realises, with a startle, that he’s nervous. He can’t imagine what Jaebum has to be nervous about. His mind starts to wander, starts to throw up suggestions for what Jaebum could possibly want to say to him.

“Uh, maybe we should – maybe we should sit down for this,” Jaebum says. Gestures towards the bleachers behind them.

Jinyoung frowns in confusion, but climbs up onto the first step and sits down obligingly. “What’s going on?” he asks. His heart rate is starting to speed up.

Jaebum licks his lips, takes a seat next to Jinyoung. They’re really close to each other now, closer than they’ve been since – well, since they were making out at Yugyeom and Bambam’s party. But now really isn’t the time to start thinking about that. Jinyoung can already feel his cheeks starting to heat up. It really doesn’t help that Jaebum’s still just in his swim trunks. There’s a lot of glistening, wet skin on display.

“I just – I have something to tell you,” Jaebum says. He’s speaking so haltingly, his nervous energy spreading to Jinyoung like a contagion. Jinyoung doesn’t dare to try to predict, doesn’t dare to hope, that he might have an idea of what Jaebum’s trying to say to him.

So he just nods slowly. “Okay,” he prompts. “Tell me, then.”

Jaebum exhales sharply, like he’s steeling himself. “Hyunwoo hyung wanted to tell you this,” he says, suddenly, “but I wanted you to hear it from me.”

And okay, that’s not quite what Jinyoung was expecting, but he just goes with it. Makes a murmuring noise to indicate that he’s heard Jaebum, waits for him to continue.

“We had a meeting yesterday,” Jaebum continues. “Hyunwoo hyung, and Taecyeon hyung, and me.”

This is definitely not what Jinyoung had had in mind when this conversation had started. His heart is pounding now, but for a completely different reason. A sense of unease, of apprehension, floods his system, like ice water in his veins. “Okay,” he says, slowly. “What about it?”

Jaebum licks his lips. He looks  _ guilty. _ Jinyoung doesn’t want to know what he’s feeling guilty about.

“Please don’t get mad,” Jaebum says.

And it’s that, more than anything, that makes Jinyoung panic. The thought that Jaebum knows he’s about to say something that will make Jinyoung angry. “I’ll get mad if you tell me something that makes me mad,” he snaps. “Just spit it out, Jaebum!”

Jaebum at least has the decency to indeed, ‘spit it out’.

“We’re re-assigning you to the long-distance freestyle events,” he blurts out.

Jinyoung doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, because  _ what the fuck? _

By the time Jaebum’s words register properly in his mind, Jinyoung’s already on his feet. He doesn’t remember standing up, but he must have done at some point in anger.

“You’re re-assigning me?” he repeats, incredulously. “To which distances?”

“Eight-hundred,” replies Jaebum. “Probably four-hundred, and fifteen-hundred as well.”

Jinyoung scoffs. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve never swum those distances before!”

Jaebum gets to his feet as well. “Jinyoung, please calm down,” he says.

“Calm down?” shouts Jinyoung. “I will not  _ calm down! _ Not when you’re sabotaging my swim career!”

“No one is sabotaging your swim career,” says Jaebum firmly. “We know you’ve never swim the longer-distances before, but you could be really good at them. We’ve all seen how many laps you can do during training before you start to slow–”

“Stop saying ‘we’ – as if this isn’t all  _ your _ fault!” Jinyoung yells. He’s shaking his head in disbelief, as he staggers away from Jaebum. “Is this why you wanted to become captain? To completely fuck me over?”

Jaebum hops down from the bleachers, following Jinyoung. “I’m not trying to fuck you over,” he says. He sounds frustrated now, but Jinyoung doesn’t care. His mind is a haze of fury.

“Then what? Trying to steal my events? Who’s going to swim my events now? You?” 

“No – Yugyeom is,” snaps Jaebum. “No one is trying to steal your events!”

Jinyoung tugs his tracksuit jacket on angrily. “I can’t believe I  _ trusted  _ you,” he hisses. Pulls his tracksuit bottoms on. All he wants to do right now is to get out of here. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? To become captain, so you could fuck me over?”

“No, I’m not – Jinyoung, listen to me!” Jaebum reaches out, grabs onto Jinyoung’s arm in a bid to stop him from storming off.

But Jinyoung lets out a scream of rage, wrenches his arm out of Jaebum’s grasp. “No,  _ you _ listen to me!” he shouts. “You’re showing your true colours now, aren’t you? What was all of this? Just a pretense, a game to you? To get me to trust you? So you could stab me in the back?”

“What? No – what are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” Jinyoung’s entire body is shaking with sheer fury now. He feels like his chest is about to cave in. There are tears prickling at the backs of his eyes, and he will not – absolutely fucking  _ will not _ – cry in front of Jaebum. “Just – just leave me alone.”

Jaebum takes a step towards him. “Jinyoung, please,” he says.

But Jinyoung’s done. He sneers at Jaebum, musters up all the resentment and anger and  _ hurt _ inside of him. 

“Fuck off, Jaebum,” he spits. Then turns, and storms out without even looking back.

 

-

 

He goes straight to Mark’s. The look of surprise and confusion on Mark’s face as he opens the door quickly fades into concern.

“Jinyoung-ah,” he murmurs, dragging his best friend into a tight hug. “What happened?”

That’s when Jinyoung starts crying.

It feels stupid, to be crying, and over what? It’s just swimming, after all. It’s not what Jinyoung plans to do with the rest of his life. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.

But it’s not just swimming. It’s also Jaebum.

He presses his face into Mark’s shoulder, tries to let everything go, focus on just the soothing feeling of Mark’s arms wrapped around him. His shoulders quiver as the sobs tear their way out of his throat, and his tears soak into the thin material of Mark’s t-shirt. Mark murmurs soothingly into his hair, guiding him into his flat, sitting him down on the sofa. Rubs gently, rhythmic circles into his back.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asks, once Jinyoung’s regained some semblance of control over his breathing. He peers at Jinyoung’s face, uses his thumb to wipe at the tears staining Jinyoung’s cheeks.

And everything is wrong, absolutely everything. Jinyoung feels unbelievably stupid, and used. He tells Mark what happened, but all he has are the facts. He doesn’t know how to convey the sense of abject worthlessness he feels. Doesn’t know what words to use to explain how or why he feels not just angry, but  _ hurt. _

But Mark gets it. Mark always gets it.

“I’m sorry, Jinyoung-ah,” he says, softly, once he’s heard Jinyoung out.

Jinyoung sniffles, wipes at his eyes. “I just – I was afraid this would happen, you know?” he mumbles. “That maybe – he was just using me? Trying to get me on his side, so I would stop fighting him?”

Mark nods, taking it all in. “I really don’t think that’s what he was doing,” he says. Runs his hand along the side of Jinyoung’s head, smoothing his hair down. “I know that’s what it feels like, but I really don’t think that’s what it was.”

“Why would he do this, then?” asks Jinyoung. He get feel the tight, choked up feeling in his chest building up again.

“I don’t know – probably because he genuinely thinks you would do better at long-distances,” Mark suggests. 

Jinyoung squeezes his eyes shut. “Doesn’t he get how it would seem?” he says. Tears are leaking out of his eyes again. He hates how affected he is.  “First he says he wants to be captain, then he kisses me, then he makes captain, and now he’s re-assigning me? Doesn’t he see that it looks  _ bad?” _

“He honestly, probably, doesn’t,” says Mark. “I don’t know – Jaebum doesn’t seem like he’s the best at understanding emotions.”

Jinyoung pouts. “Well, then, he’s  _ stupid,” _ he grumbles. “I hate him.”

Mark raises an eyebrow. “Do you, really?”

And no, Jinyoung doesn’t. “I wish I did,” he sighs, flopping forward, twisting round so he can lie with his head in Mark’s lap. Mark combs his fingers through his hair, and it feels nice. Comforting. “I wish he had never kissed me. Then I wouldn’t be so confused.”

“You were always attracted to him, even before he kissed you,” Mark points out.

Jinyoung makes a whining noise in the back of his throat. “Not the point,” he complains. Because now that he’s here, what’s the point in arguing? Yeah, he’s attracted to Jaebum. Possibly always has been. Him and his broad shoulders and undeniable talent. And now, also his laugh, the one he does where he throws his head back with abandon, and the way he slurs his words because he’s too lazy to enunciate.

But that doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

“What are you gonna do?” Mark asks.

Jinyoung takes a long, slow inhale. Exhales sharply. “What else can I do?” he replies, shrugging. “I’m going to swim.”

All of the rivalry, and the kiss, and his stupid feelings for Jaebum – all of that is just going to have to step to one side. Whether Jaebum re-assigned him because he believed in Jinyoung, or whether he was trying to sabotage him, Jinyoung decides there’s not point trying to figure it out.

He’s a swimmer. And if he doesn’t swim, he’ll sink. 

So he’s going to swim.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops I made things dramatic sorry (also that little [title drop](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TitleDrop) at the end there lol)
> 
> as always, please leave kudos/comment, I really appreciate it! and come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc


	7. Chapter 7

   


Jaebum comes up to Jinyoung, the next training session they have. He looks like he maybe wants to talk about it – whatever  _ it  _ is – but Jinyoung shrugs him off.

“I’ll swim whatever events you ask me to,” he says. Walking steadily on, not looking Jaebum in the eye but not pointedly giving him the cold shoulder either. Just trying to focus on the conversation, and ignore the way Jaebum’s hair is already wet, and pushed messily off his face. Or the way his eyes are boring into Jinyoung, earnest and eager as they always are. 

Now that Jinyoung’s admitted to himself that he’s attracted to Jaebum, being around him is far too distracting. Jinyoung just wants to be left alone. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he adds.

His words seem to surprise Jaebum, who frowns in confusion. “Really?” he asks.

Jinyoung stops, drops his swim bag on the bench. Turns, finally, to look at Jaebum. “Really,” he says. Sets his jaw firmly. “I’m not  _ happy  _ about it, but I’m on the team, and you’re my captain.”

Jaebum’s face falls visibly. Jinyoung can’t understand why. So he just remains silent, waits for Jaebum to speak.

When Jaebum does speak, his voice is soft, and gentle. Like he’s sharing a secret.

“What you said, before,” he mumbles, “I didn’t. This was never my plan. I didn’t have any of this in mind, at the party, when we kissed–”

Jinyoung makes a panicked, strangled noise. His eyes dart around, checking if anyone’s within earshot. No one is, thankfully. He glares at Jaebum. “We’re not talking about that,” he snaps. “Ever.”

Jaebum grimaces. “Sorry,” he says. “I just – it wasn’t because I wanted to make captain. I need you to know that. It wasn’t a pretense, or a game, or anything like that.”

“Okay,” replies Jinyoung. He still can’t help but look around furtively. “Then, what?”

“Because I wanted to,” says Jaebum, after a moment’s hesitation. Jinyoung’s eyes fly back to meet his gaze. Jaebum teeth dig into his lower lip. “I kissed you because I wanted to.”

Jinyoung’s heart flutters in his chest. It feels all of a sudden too warm. But he can’t let himself be distracted, not anymore.

He looks away, takes a step back. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, clears his throat loudly. “It won’t happen again.”

Jaebum stares at him for what feels like an interminable period of time. Then he sighs, nods. “Right,” he mumbles. “Of course.”

Jinyoung can’t explain why he feels a tug of regret in his gut at the disappointment he hears in Jaebum’s voice. Except maybe he can, but he refuses to admit it to himself. He’s here to swim now, not for anything else. No matter how handsome and charming said things are.

“Don’t worry,” Jinyoung says, forcing a smile onto his face. “I won’t let you down. The new events – I’ll swim them well.”

Jaebum nods. “I know you will,” he replies. It sounds like he means it. “Hyunwoo hyung and Taecyeon hyung believe in you.” He pauses. Looks deep into Jinyoung’s eyes. Jinyoung feels his the tension building in his chest. “I believe in you, too.”

Without warning, the backs of Jinyoung’s eyes begin to prickle. His gut twists. Panic swells up in him at the sudden rush of emotion he feels. He tears his eyes away from Jaebum, studies the tiled floor. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles. Exhales sharply. “I’m going to swim now.”

He doesn’t know if Jaebum watches him walk away or not. He tries not to care.

  


-

  


“You’re swimming too much,” Mark says, one day a few weeks later. They’re walking across campus after training, towards the dining hall.

Jinyoung wrinkles his nose at Mark. “What, because I won’t watch a movie with you and Jacks?” he asks. “Why do you want me there third-wheeling anyway?”

“Shut up, you wouldn’t be third-wheeling,” Mark says, and whatever – Jinyoung’s too tired to argue with Mark about his weird relationship with Jackson, just lets Mark continue. “It’s not about the movie,” Mark adds, “it’s about the fact that you’ve already been training all afternoon, and you’re  _ still  _ going back to the pool for more after dinner.”

“All great athletes make sacrifices,” replies Jinyoung simply. 

Mark rolls his eyes. “All great athletes also know when to  _ rest,”  _ he says. “You’ve been training till well past midnight most nights. And you’re often there in the mornings as well, according to Jaebum.”

_ According to Jaebum. _ Jinyoung doesn’t like the sound of that. “You talking to Jaebum about me?” he asks. Tries to keep his voice light. But he doesn’t think he really succeeds, because Mark stops walking, turns to look at him with a frown.

“The topic of you may have come up, yeah,” Mark says. “Is that not okay?”

Jinyoung shrugs. Gently knocks into Mark with his shoulder to tell him to keep walking. As they continue down the path, Jinyoung lets out a small sigh. “It’s fine, it’s whatever,” he mumbles. “I just – it’s weird. You and him, talking. About me.”

He glances at Mark. There’s an expression of mild confusion scrawled across Mark’s face. “We’re just worried about you,” he says.

The idea of Jaebum being worried about him makes Jinyoung’s stomach turn. He doesn’t need Jaebum’s worry. Doesn’t need his concern, or his pity.

“Well, don’t be,” says Jinyoung sharply. He can hear the edge in his voice, which he doesn’t really intend, but so be it. If that’s what it takes for Mark and Jaebum to stop talking about him. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”

Mark’s frown deepens, Jinyoung can see it out of the corner of his eye. “We don’t think you’re a child,” Mark says. “You’re just been training a lot. And you look exhausted. We’re concerned.”

“We?” parrots Jinyoung. “You speaking on behalf of you and Jaebum now?” He knows Mark doesn’t intend it, but he can’t help but feel a little ganged up on.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Mark shoots back. “We’re just saying, maybe you should give yourself a break. You don’t want to burn yourself out before the competition.”

Jinyoung scoffs. Now he’s being a  _ baby? _ It’s like he can’t do anything right. He was in the wrong when he got mad at Jaebum for re-assigning him, and now he’s in the wrong for accepting the re-assignment and training as hard as he can to do well at the new events. What is he supposed to fucking do?

“I’m not going to burn out,” Jinyoung snaps. “You – and  _ Jaebum  _ – don’t need to be concerned. Nor do you need to  _ discuss  _ me, in the future.”

The easy, carefree smile that usually lights up Mark’s face is completely gone now. He narrows his eyes at Jinyoung. “Right,” he says, flatly. “Sorry for  _ caring  _ about you.”

“I didn’t ask either of you to,” Jinyoung responds. He can feel the frustration bubbling up inside, and it’s all he can do to keep it from erupting out of him. But his voice is needlessly sharp, and he can sense the way Mark tenses up beside him.

“I’m your best friend, of course I’m going to care about you,” Mark says. He sounds as frustrated as Jinyoung feels. But Jinyoung also feels like he’s on the verge of crying, or screaming, or maybe both. Probably both. He’s lately often been feeling on the verge of both.

“I’m  _ fine,” _ says Jinyoung, forcefully. “Will you just leave me alone?”

Mark abruptly stops walking. Jinyoung takes a few steps forward before he registers this. Turns back to look at Mark in exasperation. “What now?” he snaps.

But Mark just glares at him. “You’re being a real bitch, you know,” he says. “You have been, all week.”

Jinyoung scowls. “Thanks, that’s real nice of you to say,” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“See, this is exactly what I mean,” Mark says, shaking his head. “Why must you turn everything into a fight?”

“I’m the one turning everything into a fight?” exclaims Jinyoung, somewhat incredulously. Anger swells up inside him, burns through his chest. Up his throat, across his shoulders, down his arms. “You’re the one gossiping about me behind my back and getting on my fucking case for just trying to be a better swimmer!”

Mark throws his hands up in the air. Lets out a strangled scream of frustration. “No one is gossiping about you behind your back!” he shouts. “For fuck’s sake, Park Jinyoung – will you get over yourself? You’re so fucking  _ obsessed  _ with swimming and being the best fucking swimmer this world has ever seen, that you’ve completely lost perspective. It’s really fucking  _ sad, _ you know?”

Jinyoung grits his teeth, clenches his hands into fists. “What the hell is wrong with wanting to be good at swimming?” he hisses. What’s wrong with being dedicated to his sport? What’s wrong with any of that?

“Nothing is  _ wrong  _ with it, it’s the fact that you seem to think it’s the only thing that matters,” snaps Mark. “You think everything everyone does is about swimming, when it’s  _ not _ – it wasn’t all about swimming when Jaebum kissed you, and it’s not all about swimming now!”

But all Jinyoung can hear now is Mark talking about the kiss. “Why would you bring that up?” he yells. “Have you been talking to Jaebum about it?”

Mark makes a face at him. “What on earth are you talking about?” he akss. He looks angry, but also  utterly confused. “I’m just trying to tell you that we’re worried about your  _ health _ – that’s all.”

“Well, don’t! Don’t worry, I don’t need you to worry,” shouts Jinyoung. He’s so overwhelmed. He just wants everything to stop, just for a moment. Just long enough for him to be able to take a breath. But he feels like he’s being forced to swim lap after lap after lap without coming up for air. His chest is about to collapse in on itself.

“Jinyoung, please,” says Mark, wearily. “Can we just sit down and talk about this?”

But no, Jinyoung’s had enough of talking. When the world gets too much to handle, there’s only one thing he knows how to do. 

Swim.

“Suddenly I’m not hungry,” Jinyoung says, coldly. Steps back from Mark, turns to walk back the way they’d come from. He can hear Mark calling his name once, then twice, then no more. He ignores it.

Jinyoung’s been swimming so hard. But he still feels like he’s drowning.

  


-

  


There’s only one significant swim competition that takes place before the winter break. It’s not a particularly important one, but it’s the first one with Jinyoung swimming long distances, and that has to count for something, surely.

Jinyoung does end up laying off the training a little, but not because Mark’s told him to. It’s because his body seems to be protesting the strain as well, and he comes down with some sort of cold. Nothing serious, just a case of the sniffles, but enough for Jinyoung to cut down the number of hours he spends in the pool. At least by a little bit.

He still hasn’t spoken to Mark, not properly, not since their fight a week ago. Mercifully, their university is hosting the swim competition, which means Jinyoung is spared the indignity of waking up at the crack of dawn only to suffer through an hours-long bus ride with his teammates, when he’s not even on speaking terms with his best friend.

When he wakes up on the morning of the competition, it’s to a scratchy throat and a throbbing headache. But Jinyoung isn’t a quitter. So he just pops a couple of pills, drags himself down to the swim hall without complaint. Decides to give himself a couple days off swimming once the competition is over.

But he’s barely done a couple laps in the warm up pool before he starts to feel the grogginess spreading through his brain. He drags himself to the end of one last lap with his aching muscles, pulls himself out of a pool. Walks carefully back to the stands where his team is assembled. Maybe no more warm up laps, he thinks to himself. Drops heavily on to the bench, massages his temples.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, walking over. He’s frowning. “You okay?”

Jinyoung forces a smile. “Super duper,” he replies, without thinking.  _ Super duper? _ Jinyoung grimaces. Where did that come from? He’s never said ‘super duper’ before in his entire life.

Jaebum eyes him distrustingly. “You sure?” he asks. “You look – kinda pale.”

_ We’re just worried about you.  _ Mark’s words ring in Jinyoung’s head. The thought of Jaebum – perfect, untouchable Jaebum – being worried about him makes him feel unbearably small.

“I’m fine,” Jinyoung says, more forcefully. Casts a glance to Mark, standing some way behind Jaebum, talking to Jackson and pointedly ignoring him, as he has been all week. He wonders if Mark knows that he was right, about Jinyoung working himself to illness. Jinyoung rummages in his bag for a tissue, blows his nose vigorously.

Jaebum raises an eyebrow. “You sound stuffed up,” he says.

“Allergies,” lies Jinyoung. Shoots Jaebum a double thumbs up. “I’m fine.”

Jaebum looks like he wants to say more, but the announcer’s voice booms through the hall, calling for the four-hundred metre freestyle swimmers to gather at the assembly point. Jinyoung pushes himself up to his feet, smiles apologetically at Jaebum. He’s stood up too quickly, and the blood floods out of his head, making him feel light-headed. Jinyoung squeezes his eyes shut, tries not to sway too hard on the spot. 

“That’s me,” he says, nodding towards where the various freestyle swimmer are starting to gather. Jaebum’s still frowning at him – in  _ concern, _ Jinyoung thinks – but Jinyoung doesn’t give him any time to say anything. Just slips past him, wanders groggily around the pool to get ready for his event. One of his new events.

The cold he’s been nursing has a steel grip on him. It feels like he’s moving through a thick, almost solid, haze. His brain is foggy, and his muscles are sore. Even as he clambers onto the starting block, he has to focus all of his energy into not toppling forwards, straight into the river.

_ Sink or swim. Sink or swim, _ Jinyoung repeats to himself like a mantra. He just needs to power through these few laps, then the next few laps, and then he can go and lie down for a day. It’s what all great athletes do.

The starting pistol fires, and Jinyoung plunges into the water. It’s cool on his skin, which feels suddenly like it’s on fire. Blood rushes past his eardrums, roaring through his consciousness. It’s all he can hear when he’s underwater.

The opposite wall feels impossibly far away, but Jinyoung does reach it, eventually. Does a tumble turn, pushes off against the wall. His arms burn as he drags himself through the water. So do his lungs. His body weighs heavy, like an anchor, dragging him down to the bottom of the pool. 

His legs are lead blocks. He can barely move them. He knows tiredness, and exhaustion, knows what it’s like to force himself to swim past the pain. This feels different.

Jinyoung tries to remember how many laps he’s swum, how many laps he has left. Is this the last one? Each lap feels longer than the last. Jinyoung doesn’t feel like he’s swimming anymore. He feels like he’s drowning. 

By the time his hand slams against the wall at the end of his last lap, and Jinyoung tears his head up through the surface of the water, he thinks he might be ready to pass out. He feels completely drained of every last breath he has in him.

But the torture isn’t over.

He’s in one of the middle lanes, one of the favourites to win. But as he looks around, his face starts to burn with shame. His competitors have long finished their swims. His eyes dart up to the results board.

He’s finished  _ eighth.  _ Dead last.

Jinyoung barely has it in him to swim to the edge of the pool, drag himself out of the water. His head is spinning, with the toxic cocktail of exhaustion and embarrassment. It feels like everyone in the cavernous swim hall is looking at him. He feels the weight of their expectations bearing down on him. Pressing him into the ground, making each step more laborious than the last.

He hears his name. Looks up blearily. Jaebum’s standing there, looking at him. “Jinyoung,” he’s saying. “Are you okay?”

Jinyoung staggers over towards him. Towards the bleachers, where he can sit down. His skin burns, but he feels frigidly cold from the inside out.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles. Tries to shake his head to clear it. Jaebum must be standing really close to him now, because his eyes are refusing to focus. He blinks at the double-image of Jaebum hovering in front of him. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

Someone’s saying his name again. Maybe Jaebum. Maybe not. Jinyoung focuses on taking in a long, slow breath. His lungs feel compressed. He can’t get enough oxygen into them. 

“Jinyoung?” he hears. It sounds like whoever’s speaking to him is speaking through a thick wall of water. “Jinyoung, what’s wrong?”

And then everything goes black.

  


-

  


The thing about fainting during a swim competition, is that anything your best friend is angry at you about is immediately forgiven. 

Jinyoung vaguely remembers coming to on the cold tile floor, remembers being helped to his feet and stumbling clumsily over to the first aid tent. Everything happens in a blur. The first real thing Jinyoung is conscious of is someone wrapping one of those shiny foil blankets around his shoulders, and pushing a protein bar of some sort into his hands.

Mark’s there, too, kneeling in front of him. “You idiot,” he’s saying, but gently. “You scared me.”

The first aiders shoo Mark away in order to start examining Jinyoung more carefully. He answers a series of questions, head still spinning. Remembers being told to lie down and have a rest. For once in his life, Jinyoung doesn’t argue. Just leans back into the small, uncomfortable pillow, closes his eyes, and allows sleep to take him.

It’s only the next day that Jinyoung finds out, from Mark, what happened. He’s sitting in his own bed, while Mark fusses over him, brings him water and snacks and checks his temperature.

“You came back over, after finishing the swim,” Mark says, as he sets a mug of tea down on Jinyoung’s bedside table – Jinyoung winces at the memory of his embarrassing defeat – “and you looked really unwell. Like, deathly pale and like you were about to pass out. Which made sense, I suppose, since you did proceed to pass out.”

Jinyoung picks the mug up, wraps his hands around it. Inhales the warm steam, relishes in the way it clears his sinuses. “Less snark, please,” he whines. “I’m an  _ invalid.” _

Mark rolls his eyes, but fondly. Perches on the edge of Jinyoung’s bed. “You’d be more of an invalid if Jaebum hadn’t caught you,” he says. Jinyoung’s eyes widen, and Mark laughs lightly. “Yeah, you heard that right – you started to sway, and then just toppled forward. Straight into Jaebum’s arms.”

This is an embarrassing detail Jinyoung hadn’t been aware of. He hides his colouring cheeks behind the mug of steaming tea. “What, like a damsel in distress?” he asks, jokingly. Trying to keep the tone light to distract from the fact that he apparently swooned into Jaebum’s arms.

“Not nearly that gracefully,” Mark replies, leaning back on his hands. “You kind of crashed into him, and Jaebum caught you, but he stumbled too. You both sort of staggered helplessly towards the ground. It was quite funny, actually, if it hadn’t been so fucking terrifying.”

Jinyoung sips at his tea. “Aw, were you worried about me?” he teases.

But Mark doesn’t rise to the bait. Just glares firmly at Jinyoung. “You know I was,” he says, tightly. “Even if you wouldn’t let me be.”

And that’s totally fair enough. Jinyoung lowers his gaze. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Sorry. I was an idiot.”

“Yes, you were,” agrees Mark. Reaches over and pinches Jinyoung’s cheek. “But unluckily for me, I love you, and so I forgive you.” He gets to his feet, stretches his arms over his head. “Now – I have classes to get to, but I’ll be back later with dinner, okay?”

Jinyoung beams. “Thanks, hyung,” he says. He doesn’t deserve a best friend like Mark. Can’t really understand why Mark puts up with him.

He must fall asleep, because the next time he opens his eyes, the flat is dark. Jinyoung’s stomach makes a plaintive rumbling noise. The clock perched on his bedside table informs him that it’s dinner time.

As if on cue, he hears someone knocking on his front door. Mark, presumably, back with food. Jinyoung pads across his flat, rubbing one hand across his bleary eyes. He’s feeling a lot better already, if still a little groggy. Pulls the door open with a stupid, happy grin on his face.

It’s not Mark. Jinyoung blinks in confusion.

“You’re not Mark,” he says, a little stupidly.

Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “No, I don’t believe I am,” he replies.

Jinyoung clears his throat. Smooths his hair down as best he can. Jaebum’s just in an oversized hoodie and jeans, but still – he looks good. Jinyoung feels suddenly self-conscious about his ratty old pajamas – grey sweatpants and a faded t-shirt with a picture of Pororo on it.

“I mean,” Jinyoung corrects, fumbling for the right words, “what are you doing here?”

Jaebum holds up the plastic bag in his hands. “I brought food,” he explains.

“Right,” Jinyoung says. Steps aside to let Jaebum enter. “Mark said he would bring me dinner.”

“He was going to, but I told him I’d made soup for you and he told me to bring it myself,” Jaebum says, setting the plastic bag down on the counter. “You want some?”

Jinyoung shuts the front door, wanders over towards Jaebum – and the food. He feels too sick to pretend that he isn’t starving, and just nods eagerly as Jaebum pulls out a large container from the plastic bag, unclips the lid. Whatever’s inside smells heavenly.

“You made this?” Jinyoung asks. Leans over the steaming pot of soup, breathes it in. 

Jaebum smiles softly at him. “I did,” he mumbles, a little shyly. Looks around the kitchen, until Jinyoung points him in the direction of the bowls. Jaebum starts ladling a hearty serving of soup into a large bowl. “My mom’s  _ samgyetang _ recipe.”

Jinyoung tries to convince Jaebum to have some soup too, but Jaebum insists that he’s already eaten. So Jinyoung ends up sitting at his dining table, slurping up the chicken soup with almost embarrassing eagerness, while Jaebum watches.

“This is amazing, thank you,” Jinyoung murmurs, midway through the bowl of soup. And he means it. The soup warms him from the inside, tasty without being overly salty or oily. 

Jaebum just leans his chin on his hand, smiles at him kindly. “You’re very welcome,” he says.

And Jinyoung realises, with a start, that this may be the most civil and – dare he say it – even  _ friendly _ interaction he and Jaebum have ever had. It must be the mild fever burning through his brain. Jinyoung feels his face heating up, ducks his head down and sips studiously at the soup.

“And thank you, as well,” he mumbles. “For uh, catching me. Yesterday.”

“Oh,” Jaebum breathes, like he’s surprised. A faint blush of pink tinges his cheeks. “That’s okay. I’m just – I’m glad you’re okay.”

Jinyoung peers up at Jaebum, forces a grin onto his face that he’s pretty sure ends up looking more like a grimace. Which, in any case, probably more accurately reflects how he feels. “I’m fine, except for a bruised ego,” he jokes.

But Jaebum just looks at him, and Jinyoung feels himself squirm under the scrutiny. He can’t stop himself from blabbering on.

“Can’t believe I not only fainted, but also finished dead last,” he says. Laughs in a way that’s meant to be light-hearted, but comes out sounding bitter. “How much more embarrassing can it get?”

Jaebum frowns at him. “It’s not embarrassing at all,” he says, quietly. “You were sick.”

Jinyoung shrugs. Stares at his soup. The ache in his chest is back. “Just with a cold,” he mumbles. “Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Wasn’t just a cold,” says Jaebum. “You were severely overworked. Exhausted. The cold was just a side-effect of that.”

But all of these excuses just make Jinyoung feel even more ashamed than before. He blinks fiercely. There are tears in his eyes, threatening to fall. “I don’t want to make excuses,” he says.

Jaebum is silent, but Jinyoung can feel the weight of his gaze. Tries to ignore it, spoons some more soup into his mouth. The air between them is suddenly thick with tension. 

“Do you remember the time I got disqualified?” Jaebum asks, out of nowhere. It’s so unexpected that Jinyoung raises his eyes to look at Jaebum before he even realises he’s doing it. “Back in our first year,” Jaebum adds.

And yeah, of course Jinyoung remembers. Jaebum had jumped off the starting block too early. Jinyoung remembers taking gleeful delight in his key rival’s downfall. But he doesn’t mention this. Just nods, waits for Jaebum to elaborate.

“I felt so terrible,” Jaebum says. “I was so ashamed, so angry at myself, for so long. I absolutely hated myself.”

Jinyoung finds this hard to believe. Impossibly confident Jaebum, feeling anything even close to self-loathing? There’s something so sincere in Jaebum’s tone, though, and something so genuine in his eyes, that Jinyoung finds himself wondering. Wondering if  _ maybe  _ – maybe Jaebum understands.

“In the end, though – it was one of the best things that could have happened to me,” Jaebum continues. He quirks a small, half-smile, out of the corner of his mouth. “It forced me to comes to terms with the fact that I’m more than just how well I swim. That I have worth, as a person, even if I don’t do well at swimming.”

The prickling sensation at the corners of Jinyoung’s eyes intensifies. He swallows around the thickness in his throat. “Easy for you to say,” he mumbles. He sighs, looks up at the ceiling, before turning his gaze back to Jaebum. “You’re the absolute  _ best  _ at swimming, and you’re smart, and popular, and a good leader, and stupidly handsome – you have loads of things going for you.” 

He hadn’t meant to say ‘stupidly handsome’, but thankfully Jaebum either doesn’t notice or has the decency not to mention it.

“You have plenty going for you too,” is what Jaebum says, instead.

Jinyoung has to suppress a resentful, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t be facetious,” he says, a little sharply. “All I have is swimming – and I don’t even really have that anymore, not since you turned up.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Jaebum says. “I’m not a  _ better  _ swimmer than you. I’m just different.”

“You’re being nice,” Jinyoung replies.

Jaebum shakes his head. “No, I’m not,” he says, firmly. “You don’t realise this, but you have an incredible amount of stamina. You don’t think it’s a big deal because it’s just what you  _ do,  _ but no one else on the team could keep up with the number of laps you can do without a break.”

Jinyoung isn’t used to this kind of earnest compliment, doesn’t know what to do with it. Doesn’t know what to do with the voice inside him that screams that none of what Jaebum is saying can possibly be true. So he just makes a sort of strangled noise of possible assent, desperately wishes for the conversation to end.

“It doesn’t matter, though,” says Jaebum, after a moment’s pause. His voice is soft. “Swimming, all of it – at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s all I have,” Jinyoung mumbles. He presses the heels of his hands against his eye sockets.

Jaebum reaches out, his fingers coming to rest gently on Jinyoung’s wrists. Tugs Jinyoung’s hands away from his face. Jinyoung looks Jaebum in the eyes. It feels suddenly incredibly intimate. His heart rate picks up, hammering a tattoo against his ribcage.

“It’s not all you have,” breathes Jaebum. His hands are still on Jinyoung’s wrists, resting in Jinyoung’s lap.

Jinyoung licks his lips. He feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “What else do I do?” he asks. Rhetorically. He knows that he doesn’t have anything else.

But Jaebum just says, “It’s not about what you do.” Shakes his head ever so slightly. “It’s about who you are.”

Jinyoung scoffs, quietly. To hide the fact that his heart is thundering in his ears. “Who am I?”

Jaebum smiles at him. His thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle against the inside of Jinyoung’s wrist. “I wish you could see yourself the way other people see you,” he says. “The way I see you.”

Jinyoung lets out a long, slow exhale. “How do you see me?” he whispers. 

“I see – fire,” Jaebum says. His eyes are soft as he studies Jinyoung’s face. His gaze drops down to Jinyoung’s lips. It makes Jinyoung’s heart skip. “You’re the most fiery person I know.”

Just those words – those words are enough to make Jinyoung feel something clenching around his insides like a vice. It makes him feel desperate to cry, though he doesn’t know why. But Jaebum’s not done.

“I see drive,” Jaebum continues, “and work ethic, and a solid, immovable determination.” He brings one hand up to Jinyoung’s cheek, rests it against the slope of Jinyoung’s jaw. The palm of his hand radiates warmth. “But I also see a light-heartedness, a playfulness. And steadfast loyalty. And kindness, towards everyone but yourself.”

Jinyoung’s chest tightens even more, his lungs compressed to the point where he feels like he can’t even breathe. He closes his eyes, desperate to keep the tears from falling. He can feel the wetness against his eyelashes. “Jaebum,” he breathes. It’s too much. He feels the ache in his heart, radiating outwards. “Jaebum, please.”

When Jaebum takes his hands back, Jinyoung feels the loss like a twist of pain. His eyes fly open. Jaebum’s watching him with something so gentle, so fond, in his eyes, that it makes him feel abjectly helpless beneath that gaze.

“I should go now,” Jaebum says. But he doesn’t move. He looks like he’s waiting for something. Maybe for Jinyoung to ask him to stay.

But Jinyoung can’t. Not yet, at least.

“Yeah,” is all Jinyoung manages to say. His voice sounds thick, like it doesn’t really belong to him. “Yeah, you probably should.” He stands up, shuffles towards the front door. Jaebum follows him wordlessly. Steps back out of Jinyoung’s flat, shuts the door quietly behind him.

It’s only when Jaebum’s left, that Jinyoung finally folds in on himself, and starts to cry.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a little heavier and not super fun, but I think it's v necessary... hope y'all liked it anyway! next chapter is gonna be fun and light-hearted and I can't wait :))
> 
> please leave kudos/comments! and come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

Jinyoung doesn’t  _ hate _ this, per se. He's just not a huge fan of it.  _ This _ being the fact that he’s currently sitting by the edge of a pool — a completely unfamiliar pool — watching Bambam on Yugyeom’s shoulders trying to topple Mark on Jackson’s shoulders.

What had Jaebum called it? A  _ team retreat. _ Jinyoung tries to remember the spiel he and Hyunwoo, back at the end of term, had given the team.

“A chance to have fun, and take the pressure off all our shoulders a little.” That’s what Jaebum had said.

_ Fun! _ If Jinyoung wanted to have fun, he wouldn’t have joined competitive swimming — he would have joined the bridge club, or something. Except that bridge probably wouldn’t be fun either, because the stress of relying on your partner not to fuck your game up would have been too much for Jinyoung’s blood pressure.

The team had all been curious about the decision, of course — but as they usually had a week-long training boot camp instead of this three-day spa retreat at a hot springs resort no one was complaining too much. 

Jinyoung didn’t volunteer the fact that he could have sworn Jaebum that had looked at him when he’d given his speech about having fun. Maybe Jinyoung was imagining it. But he doesn’t think so. In any case, he was neither foolish nor masochistic enough to volunteer his nagging suspicion that Jaebum had organised the retreat as a way to help Jinyoung relax.

Not that Jinyoung  _ actually _ thought that, of course. It seemed narcissistic to even entertain the idea.

But whatever Jaebum’s motivation, the retreat had been organised, and now here Jinyoung was. Watching his friends make fools of themselves and waiting his turn to be forced to do the same.  _ How  _ was this supposed to help with their swimming?

It’s as this thought crosses his mind that Mark starts chattering to Jackson in rapidfire Mandarin. Jackson does a graceful side-step, which opens up an opportunity for Mark to give Bambam a particularly vigorous and unexpected shove. Bambam lets out an undignified shriek, and topples into the water. His legs, locked around Yugyeom’s shoulders, end up dragging Yugyeom beneath the surface with him. Jackson howls with laughter. 

Despite himself, Jinyoung lets out a low chuckle.

“You having fun yet?”

Jinyoung turns. Jaebum drops down to sit next to him, both of their legs dangling in the water.

“I guess,” Jinyoung mumbles, shrugging. “Don’t really see how this helps with swimming, though.” He gestures with a sweeping motion towards the scene before him. Bambam is arguing with Hyunwoo — the unofficial referee of the match — about Mark and Jackson conspiring in a language not spoken by the masses. Jackson is angrily retorting that if anything, Mandarin is the one language that is spoken by masses.

Jaebum grins lopsidedly at Jinyoung. “It’s supposed to keep my swimmers sane and healthy,” he replies. “And not passing out from exhaustion.”

Like he had, Jinyoung thinks. Shame curls within him. “You organised this whole retreat for  _ me?” _

Jaebum just leans back on his hands, and laughs. Throws his head back as he does. He has a nice jawline, Jinyoung muses absently. Strong. Handsome.

“Not everything is about you,” he says, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Other people might be exhausted too, you know.”

Jinyoung scowls. “I know that—” he starts.

But Jaebum cuts him off. “I guess the retreat is for  _ everyone’s _ benefit,” he says, still smiling that warm, soft smile. “But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about you when I suggested it to Hyunwoo hyung.”

And — right. Okay.

Jinyoung tears his eyes away from Jaebum. He feels nervous energy sparking beneath his skin. The silence between them stretches on, getting tauter and tauter like a rubberband. Jinyoung’s desperate to say something — anything — but his tongue feel leaden in his mouth, and he can’t make any words.

Thankfully, as always seems to be the case, Jaebum saves him.

“Wanna give it a go?” he asks. Jinyoung’s bewildered for a second, but then he sees Jaebum nodding towards Sungjin and Brian, who are standing in the middle of the pool, arguing about which of them should carry which on their shoulders.

Jinyoung shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

But Jaebum hops down into the water, turns back to beam at Jinyoung. “Come on,” he calls out, as he slowly walks backwards. “Let your hair down! Live a little!”

“I like my hair where it is, thank you very much,” Jinyoung shoots back. 

Jaebum stands midway between Jinyoung, and Sungjin and Brian. Holds out one hand. “Come on.”

And Jinyoung doesn’t know what gets into him, but he’s suppressing a smile as he pushes himself off the edge of the pool, splashes down into the water. He reaches out, slips his hand into Jaebum’s. 

Jaebum tugs him along. Jinyoung lets him.

 

-

 

Jaebum bends down in the water, motions for Jinyoung to climb on. 

“Why do I have to be the one on top?” complains Jinyoung. 

“I’m bigger than you, I shouldn’t be on top,” replies Jaebum, matter-of-factly. And great, they haven’t even started the game and they’re already bickering.

Jinyoung crosses his arms. “I don’t want to be on top!”

“I’m too big for you, I can’t be on top!”

Brian lets out a snort of laughter. Both Jinyoung and Jaebum turn to look at him.

“Boys, please,” he says, holding out his hands placatingly. Next to him, Sungjin is trying, fairly unsuccessfully, to suppress his own giggles. “We really don’t need to know which of you tops or bottoms.”

Jinyoung feels the colour rush to his cheeks. Amazingly, Jaebum looks abashed as well. Staunchly refuses to meet his eyes. 

“Just get on my shoulders,” Jaebum says, brusquely.

And Jinyoung is too embarrassed to object, so he does. But also because — there’s something about Jaebum’s sudden shyness that’s giving Jinyoung weird feelings in his chest. Watching Jaebum avert his gaze, seeing how fidgety he got — Jinyoung feels the corners of his lips curl into a smile.

He rests his hands gently on the top of Jaebum’s head. Tries to ignore the fact that his dick is pressed neatly up against the back of Jaebum’s neck. Or the fact that Jaebum’s placed both hands on the top of his thighs to steady him, the very tips of his fingers curling towards the inside of his leg.

God, this would be a very embarrassing time to get a boner.

Jinyoung clenches his jaw. Think about something gross, think about something gross.

Then Hyunwoo blows a whistle — where did he get the whistle from? — and all thought flies out of Jinyoung’s mind. Because Sungjin has come charging forward, Brian perched atop him and leaning forward to grab at Jinyoung. It’s a terrifying sight.

“Jaebum, Jaebum, move!” Jinyoung shrieks in panic. He slaps at the top of Jaebum’s head in agitation. His thighs tighten around the side of Jaebum’s face. But he’s not thinking about any of that. He’s just thinking about getting as far away from the extremely aggressive Sungjin-Brian duo as possible.

“Don’t hit me!” yells Jaebum in response, stumbling somewhat clumsily in a circle. Jinyoung leans to the side to avoid Brian’s flailing arms. “Do you want to attack?”

Jinyoung curls his fingers into Jaebum’s hair to steady himself, keep himself balanced. “Yeah,” he says, not even thinking, “yeah, yeah — go for it!”

And then Jaebum’s whirling round, hurtling back towards Sungjin. Jinyoung sees Brian looming up in front of him. He reaches out, grabs hold of Brian’s shoulders at the same time Brian grabs hold of his. He can vaguely hear someone shrieking with laughter in the background.

“Stop splashing water in my face!” Jaebum yells.

“I’m not!” Jinyoung yells back.

Jaebum makes a spluttering noise. “Not you! Sungjin!” Then he shakes his head vigorously. It rocks Jinyoung violently from side to side.

“Hyung!” Jinyoung calls out in alarm. But it’s too late. He can feel the moment his centre of gravity tips over, can feel the moment when he becomes suddenly top-heavy. And he understands now why Bambam had done it to Yugyeom, earlier — in his panic during that brief split second of falling, his legs tighten around Jaebum’s head. As he falls, he drags Jaebum down with him.

There are limbs everywhere underwater, and so many bubbles that he can’t see anything. Jinyoung thrashes about in search of the surface, finally breaks through. Jaebum comes crashing up almost immediately as well, his chest heaving as he takes in a huge gulp of air.

“We win!” Brian shouts, waving his arms happily from atop Sungjin.

“You’re heavy,” is all Sungjin says, before unceremoniously dumping Brian backwards into the water.

Jinyoung bursts out laughing. As does Jaebum, and as do everyone else scattered around the pool, watching them. The whole scene is ridiculous, four grown men splashing about in the water, surrounded by a horde of other grown men, all cheering for a pointless battle. But it’s — Jinyoung struggles to find a way to describe how it feels. Easy, and light. Like he doesn’t need to think about anything, even if just for a brief moment.

“Having fun yet?” Next to him, so close they’re almost chest to chest, Jaebum shoots him a soft smile.

Jinyoung pauses. Fun. That’s it.

“Yeah,” he says. Returns the smile. “Fun.”

 

-

 

Jinyoung folds his t-shirt and sweatpants neatly in the lockers. Steps into the shower rooms, rinses himself off. The rest of the team wanted to go to the bar for drinks, but Jinyoung much preferred the idea of an evening alone in the hot springs.

The air is bracing when he steps back out, pads his way down the tree-lined paths to the open-air springs. But there’s stream swirling in the air, and it warms him. 

He takes the path away from the largest springs — he wants to be alone, would rather not risk bumping into anyone, stranger or otherwise.

Turns out, Jaebum had the same idea.

They crash into each other, each evidently coming from the shower rooms on opposite ends of the hot springs complex. Jaebum’s hands fly to Jinyoung’s waist to steady him, and Jinyoung finds his hands flat on Jaebum’s chest. The broad plane of muscle is firm, and warm, beneath his palms. 

“Oh,” Jaebum says. “Sorry.”

Thankfully, they’re one of those resorts where people are allowed to keep their swimsuits on. Jinyoung’s cheeks flush at the mere thought of being caught in the same situation with Jaebum if that wasn’t the case.

Jinyoung pushes himself away, steps back hastily. And a little frantically. His heart is suddenly hammering in his chest. “I didn’t — I thought you’d be drinking with the rest of them.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Jaebum says, shrugging. “Why aren’t you with them?”

Jinyoung sits on the edge of the pool, dips his legs in the water, trying to get used to the searing heat. “I thought it’d be a good chance to get a quiet evening in the hot springs, without Jackson and Bambam yelling about something every two seconds,” he says, smiling lightly.

Jaebum grins lazily at him. “I feel you.” He starts to climb into the spring, then hesitates. “But if — if you want to be alone, I can go.”

Jinyoung looks up. “No, that’s okay,” he replies, before he even realises what he’s saying. Pauses, thinks it over. “Really,” he says, firmly. “I don’t mind.”

Not that he has any right to tell Jaebum to leave, but Jinyoung doesn’t doubt that Jaebum means it when he says he’s willing to leave if Jinyoung wants. The thought makes Jinyoung feel an ache in his chest. He offers Jaebum an encouraging smile.

The pool is just about large enough for them to sit on opposite sides without touching, but barely. Jaebum’s presence, as it always has been, as it always is, impossible to ignore. Jinyoung leans his head back, gazes up at the night sky, scrawled with streaks of stars. Feels the warmth of the water seep into his skin, into his muscles, deep into his bones.

The steam and the silence swirl like smoke around them.

“You’ve been smiling a lot more lately.”

Jinyoung looks across the pool. Jaebum’s leaning back, eyes closed. His hair is pushed back from his face, like it often is when he’s swimming, but messier. Some damp strands hang across his forehead and in his eyes. His cheeks are faintly pink from the heat. So are his lips.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung breathes. Lets his own eyes fall shut. “I guess.”

“You have a nice smile.”

Despite himself, Jinyoung can feel the corners of his lips tugging upwards. He bites down the urge to beam. Just basks silently in the compliment.

It takes a moment before Jaebum speaks again. When he does, it’s so quiet, and gentle, that Jinyoung hesitates for a moment, not quite sure if he’s heard him correctly. 

“I like it,” Jaebum says.

Jinyoung can hear the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. He opens his eyes. Jaebum is looking directly at him, a soft smile pulling at his own lips. The clouds of steam rising off the water surface make Jinyoung feel like he’s wading through a dream.

“I like your smile too,” he replies, without thinking. It’s true, he realises, as Jaebum’s face breaks into a brilliant grin, like sun rays bursting through the cloud cover and fanning out like a halo.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me anymore,” Jaebum says suddenly. His eyes crinkle in a smile. “You called me hyung, earlier.”

Jinyoung blinks in surprise, thinks back. During the game they were playing in the pool. He vaguely remembers. It had come so easily to him. He swallows tightly. “I guess I did.”

“I liked it,” Jaebum murmurs. Shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to clear his head. 

Jinyoung doesn’t know what to say to this, so he doesn’t say anything. Jaebum presses his lips together. He seems to be struggling to find the right words as well. Then his face falls suddenly serious. “I really admire you, you know? Ever since the first time we met, at that winter meet in first year.”

“Me?” Jinyoung asks, frowning. Bewildered. What is there in him for Jaebum — perfect swimmer, impossibly popular, good grades — to admire?

But Jaebum just nods earnestly. “Yeah, you,” he says, emphatically. “You always seemed to put together, so composed. Next to you I just felt so awkward and clumsy.”

Jinyoung goggles at him. “You? Awkward and clumsy? Are you insane? You were like — the coolest person I had ever met!”

“I’m really not cool,” Jaebum objects.

Jinyoung smirks. “I know,” he teases. “That’s why I used the past tense.”

Jaebum splashes some water at him. A soft giggle escapes Jinyoung.

“I mean it, though,” Jaebum says. Drops his gaze, sweeps his hair off his face. His skin glistens with sweat and steam. “You were so, I don’t know — aloof? Like you couldn’t care less what people thought about you.”

This, somehow, makes Jinyoung laugh. It’s the the sheer ridiculousness of the statement that tickles him. “Are you kidding? I’m  _ desperate  _ for approval.”

“Maybe — but you’re only desperate for your own approval.”

How the mood can change to abruptly, Jinyoung doesn’t understand. His heart shudders to a stop. His chest tightens. Jaebum has a way of slicing through all the bullshit, making Jinyoung feel like he’s completely exposed. 

“Jaebum,” he mumbles. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. Words aren’t coming to him. “Don’t psychoanalyse me.”

“Sorry,” Jaebum says, quickly. He sounds like he means it. But also like the conversation isn’t over. The intensity of his gaze prickles at the back of Jinyoung’s neck. Jinyoung can’t bring himself to meet Jaebum’s eyes. Watches the spirals of steam curling languidly off the surface of the water. 

Something hangs heavy in the air. Something like tension. Or anticipation.

When Jaebum speaks again, his voice is soft, and low, like he’s sharing a secret. “I like you, you know.”

Jinyoung keeps his gaze trained on the water’s surface. “I know,” he breathes. He doesn’t understand why, or how, but he knows. He’s known for a while. Jaebum hasn’t exactly tried to hide it. 

But it feels different, now that it’s been said.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum says, quietly.

But Jinyoung shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I just — I don’t know…” He trails off. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know.

“Do you — do you think you could like me back?” Jaebum asks. There’s a slight tremor in his voice, almost imperceptible. Jinyoung realises, suddenly, that Jaebum must feel as vulnerable as he does. The thought crashes into him. His chest feels like it’s caving in.

He drags his eyes up to meet Jaebum’s. There’s so much raw openness in them.

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung whispers. Like if he speaks too loudly, he’ll shatter the strange alternate universe they’ve stepped into.

Jaebum nods, slowly. Gets to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking down. “I made you uncomfortable. I’ll go.”

He makes his way across the length of the pool, towards the steps next to Jinyoung. Panic mounts in Jinyoung. It feels like the ending of something that he doesn’t want to end. 

It’s with barely any consciousness of what he’s doing that Jinyoung stands up abruptly, his hand reaching out to grab onto Jaebum’s arm. Jaebum freezes in place.

They’re so close. Jinyoung can hear the soft inhale and exhale of Jaebum’s breathing. Can see the water beading on Jaebum’s skin. One drop trails its way down his temple, along the side of his jaw. Another one slides down his cheek, onto his lip.

Jinyoung reaches up with his other hand, uses his thumb to gently swipe the droplet of water away from Jaebum’s lip. He feels light-headed from the heat. Or maybe from his and Jaebum’s intense proximity.

Whatever it is, Jinyoung’s not quite in his own head as much as he usually is. That’s what he tells himself, later when trying to understand what got into him.

He tips his head back, leans in. Presses his lips against Jaebum’s.

It takes a moment for Jaebum to respond, but when he does it’s electric.

The last — and only other — time they’d kissed, they had both been drunk. Now, there’s nothing clouding Jinyoung’s brain except his own muddled feelings. Jaebum’s lips move against his, soft and warm but also firm, insistent. Jinyoung presses himself up against Jaebum, his lips falling apart as a soft groan of pleasure escapes him. Jaebum slides his tongue through Jinyoung’s parted lips, hot and wet and sending tingles shuddering through Jinyoung’s body.

When they pull apart, Jinyoung feels utterly wrecked. All they’ve done is kiss. And already he feels like he might faint.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum exhales.

The coolness of the night air suddenly blows across Jinyoung. A sobering breeze. His heart drops like a stone. What has he done?

“I — I’m sorry,” Jinyoung mumbles, breaking away from Jaebum. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jaebum’s face falls. “Jinyoung,” he says. It sounds wary. Or afraid.

Jinyoung shakes his head. “This isn’t fair to you.” He feels awful. “I don’t know — I’m very confused.”

“That’s okay,” Jaebum says. “It’s okay.”

But it’s not okay. Not okay at all. Jinyoung can feel a burning ache in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. Stumbles up the steps out of the pool, and leaves.

 

-

 

“Can you swap rooms with Jackson tonight?”

Jinyoung puts his drink down, turns to look at Mark. It’s the last night of the retreat, and one night after Jinyoung kissed Jaebum and ran away (not that Mark knows about that. The light in the bar is dim, but even then Jinyoung can see the slight flush in Mark’s cheeks. He glances over Mark’s shoulder. Jackson is standing and chatting to Youngjae, Sungjin and Jaebum, but keeps casting looks over in their direction.

“Are you guys finally getting your shit together?” he asks, smirking. His eyes keep wandering back to Jackson’s group. Towards Jaebum. Just in a hoodie and jeans, but still looking frustratingly handsome.

Mark shrugs. “Don’t know,” he says, frankly. “But tonight’s the last night we’re here. Last chance to pretend the real world doesn’t exist.”

“That makes no sense.” Jinyoung frowns.

“I just mean — it’s like, a different universe,” Mark says. “Anything can happen and it doesn’t need to matter.”

Jinyoung cocks his head to the side. “Like a what-happens-in-Vegas type thing?”

Mark rolls his eyes. “I guess,” he asks, sounding a little irritable. “Now are you going to be an ally in the cause of ‘Getting Mark Laid’ or not?”

“Gross,” mumbles Jinyoung, but he slides his key card out of his wallet, hands it to Mark. Takes Jackson’s room key in return. “Have fun — stay safe.”

But Jinyoung can’t stop thinking about what Mark said.  _ Anything can happen.  _ He gets another drink, sips at it slowly. He has no idea what he’s doing, really. But maybe that’s okay. 

By the time he finishes his drink, the bar is empty — at least of anyone he knows. He wonders when everyone left.

It’s only as gets to the floor where the team is staying, that he realises he has no idea which room Jackson and Youngjae are meant to be in. The key card is just a plain, while rectangle with the hotel’s logo on one side and a magnetic stripe on the other.

“This isn’t helpful,” grumbles Jinyoung. He stands in the corridor, outside his own room, tries to think if he’d seen Jackson or Youngjae stumbling in or out of their room at any point during the trip. 

“Are you okay?”

Jinyoung turns. Jaebum’s standing a few doors down, staring at him. They haven’t been alone together, not since they’d kissed in the hot springs. The memory burns hot in Jinyoung’s brain.

“I just — I swapped rooms with Jackson, but I don’t know which room he was in,” Jinyoung explains. He tries not to think about the way Jaebum’s lips had felt beneath his own. Or the pounding of Jaebum’s heartbeat against his own chest.

“Why did you swap rooms — oh,” Jaebum starts to ask, then interrupts himself. Grimaces. “Never mind, pretend I didn’t ask that.” 

Jinyoung smiles wanly. “Anyway — do you know which room is Jackson’s?”

Jaebum nods, turns towards what is presumably his own room door. “Yeah, I have the room list — hang on,” he says, swiping his key card and pushing the door open. Jinyoung hesitates for a moment in the doorway as Jaebum flicks the lights on, but then he feels even more stupid and awkward hovering about in the hallway, so he follows Jaebum in. The room is cold, and impeccably neat.

“You have a room to yourself,” Jinyoung notices, suddenly. There’s only one double bed, instead of two twins.

Jaebum looks up from where he was rummaging in his bag. He seems surprised by the statement. “Oh, uh — yeah,” he mumbles. Turns his attention back to his bag and the search for the room list. “We had an odd number of people.”

When Jaebum turns back around, he’s holding a crumpled sheet of paper in his hands. “I thought Hyunwoo hyung should have the single room, but he wanted to room with Minhyuk.”

Jinyoung frowns in confusion. “Why?”

Jaebum just raises an eyebrow at Jinyoung, and he colours. Of course. Stupid question. 

“Anyway,” Jaebum continues, after a quick glance at the list. “Jackson’s in 602 — should be just two doors down from you and Mark.”

Jinyoung nods. “Right,” he says. Shuffles his weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.”

Neither of them moves. Mark’s words ring in Jinyoung’s head.

_ Anything can happen. Doesn’t need to matter. _

But no, Jinyoung can’t possibly. He takes a large, abrupt step back. “I should go now.”

Jaebum smiles at him, understandingly, but also sadly. “You should,” he replies. They walk silently across the room, back to the door. Jinyoung steps out into the corridor, turns back to face Jaebum.

“I, um—” he starts. Pauses. “Goodnight.”

Jaebum nods. “Goodnight, Jinyoung.”

Then he shuts the door, and Jinyoung is in the hallway again. Alone.

He walks slowly past door after door, barely looking out for the right room. He feels like he’s pushing through a thick fog. It’s like Mark’s right there, in his head, speaking to him.

_ Anything can happen. _

_ Doesn’t need to matter. _

Jinyoung stops. He’s gone way past room 602. But he doesn’t care. Maybe it’s time for him to stop caring so much about everything. To stop thinking so much, worrying so much. Maybe he can just do what he wants to do, just for once in his stupid, overly-cautious life.

“Fuck it.”

He whirls round, takes one firm step after another, going back down the hallway the way he’d come.

His heart is pounding out a violent tattoo against his ribcage. By the time he makes it back to Jaebum’s door, he thinks he might vibrate entirely out of his body with nerves. But he tries not to think about any of that. Gives the door two firm knocks.

The surprise is evident on Jaebum’s face when he opens the door.

“What—” he mumbles. Trails off in confusion.

Jinyoung swallows around the thickness in his throat. “I don’t know,” he says, honestly. “And I shouldn’t do anything, if I don’t  _ know,  _ you know?”

Jaebum stares at him. “Okay,” he says. Exhales, like he’s not sure where Jinyoung is going with this. To be honest, Jinyoung isn’t sure where he’s going with this himself. Except that if he doesn’t keep going he’s going to lose whatever blind courage he’d managed to summon up.

“But we’re on holiday,” he continues, blathering on, “and Mark said it’s not the real world. And that ‘what happens in Vegas’, so it doesn’t matter. And I don’t know if that’s right, but I guess — I want it to be right.”

Jaebum hesitates. Opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, like he’s trying to figure out what to say, or how to say it. Finally, he asks, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung says. No turning back. No fear. Nothing to lose. “Yes, I am.”

Jaebum stares at him. Doesn’t say anything, for what feels like an interminable and excruciating period of silence. In that pause, Jinyoung is flooded with regret. This was a terrible idea.

Then Jaebum steps forward, places both hands on Jinyoung’s cheeks, and presses their lips together.

There’s a beat, a moment, when Jinyoung is too shocked to respond. But then he’s quickly melting into the kiss, his own hands sliding down Jaebum’s back, fingers digging into the flesh above Jaebum’s hips. 

There’s always been a heat between them, and without warning or waiting, it’s burst into life.

“This is a bad idea,” Jaebum mumbles, against Jinyoung’s lips.

“It is,” Jinyoung agrees. He parts his lips, licks his tongue eagerly into Jaebum’s mouth. “It really is.”

But neither of them shows any sign of wanting to stop. Jaebum digs his teeth gently into Jinyoung’s bottom lip, drawing out a low moan. Jinyoung slides his hands beneath Jaebum’s shirt, runs his palms along the firm muscles of Jaebum’s back.

They stumble into the room in a mess of limbs and everything else.

The door clicks shut behind them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so nervous about this chapter!!!! it has changed a lot from the outline, in part because I was going to write a smut scene but I decided that it didn't fit the overall mood of the story (you will also notice I've lowered the rating of the fic) - but I think I like the focus on jinyoung and jaebum's relationship and dynamic more. let me know what you thought? 
> 
> please leave a kudo/comment, and come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc :)))


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

Soft sunlight streams into the room through the cracks in the curtains. Jinyoung peels one eye open blearily. He’s a little cold, he realises. His bare shoulders are peeking out over the top of the blanket. He tries to shift, tries to tug the covers up over him. Waits as the haze of sleep fades slowly from him.

Dimly, he realises he’s not alone. Becomes aware of the weight of someone’s arm thrown across his waist. The firm press of someone’s body against his back. Jinyoung’s brain kicks suddenly into high gear. The memory of how he got himself here, in this position, floods back to him.

His stirring awakens Jaebum, who lets out a muffled whine and nuzzles his face into Jinyoung’s shoulder.

Jinyoung squints at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It’s barely eight. Enough time to make it back to his own room, his own bed, with hopefully no one being any the wiser.

He pries Jaebum’s arm off him, wriggles his way off the edge of the bed. Fumbles about on the ground for his clothes. Where the _hell_ are his boxers?

“Your boxers are on my side of the bed,” Jaebum mumbles. “I threw them there when I took them off you last night.”

Jinyoung freezes. Turns to look at Jaebum, offers him a feeble smile. “Thanks,” he says, shuffling around the bed to pick up his boxers off the floor. He’s suddenly acutely aware of his own nakedness. Even though Jaebum’s seen all of that already. It doesn’t stop him from feeling embarrassed. He avoids looking at Jaebum again until he’s at least covered up his junk.

“Last night was...unexpected,” Jaebum says. He’s sitting up in the bed, leaning back against the headboard. There’s a cautious look in his eyes, like he’s waiting apprehensively for Jinyoung to do or say something. Jinyoung doesn’t know what, exactly.

“It was certainly that,” replies Jinyoung, as breezily as he can manage. Steps into his jeans, shimmies them up past his hips. “Probably not the best idea.”

Jaebum makes a murmuring noise of agreement in the back of his throat. “No, probably not.”

Jinyoung yanks his t-shirt and jumper over his head. Sits on the armchair in the corner room to put his shoes on. He has a good view of Jaebum from here, he realises, as he unlaces his shoes so he can slip his feet into them. Jaebum’s hair is mussed up, and there are faint bite marks scattered red across his collarbone. The covers have slid down to reveal his bare upper body. The faint sunlight gives his smooth, firm muscles an almost ethereal glow. Illuminates his jawline, his stately cheekbones. His gaze is gentle, slightly glassy, like he’s still coming down from a high. Maybe he is. Jinyoung feels a tug of desire from deep inside his groin. Now is _not_ the time, he thinks fiercely.

“Do you mind,” Jinyoung starts, then pauses. He doesn’t know how to say this, doesn’t want to be indelicate. But he needs to get back to his own room — well, Jackson’s room — as quickly as possible. There’s no time for tact. “Can you not tell anyone about — well, about what happened.”

Jaebum looks at him so evenly that Jinyoung half wonders if he’d heard him. But then Jaebum licks his lips, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says. His voice is, as his face is, inscrutable. “Sure.”

But he looks like he has more to say. Jinyoung wants to leave, really needs to, on fact, but he doesn’t. The vulnerability scrawled across Jaebum’s face stops him.

“Are you — okay?” he asks, even as he hesitates at the foot of the bed, ready to bolt out of the room but not quite doing it.

Jaebum nods, smiles at him. “Yeah,” he mumbles. Pauses, like he’s trying to find the words to say. Or the courage to say them. “Do you regret it? Last night?”

Something tugs in Jinyoung’s heart. His instinct is to say yes, that he does regret it, because that’s what he should say. In a world that was logical, that made sense, last night would be nothing more than a drunken aberration — never mind the fact that neither of them had been drunk — and they would simply forget about it.

But Jinyoung’s world stopped making sense a while ago.

“No,” he says, shrugging half-heartedly and shoving his hands into his pockets. “No regrets.”

A small grin pulls at the corners of Jaebum’s lips. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

Jinyoung clears his throat. “Yeah,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing at the memory of the night before. The memory of how Jaebum’s skin felt, searing hot beneath his hands, and his lips, his thighs, all of him — Jinyoung swallows, his throat suddenly gone dry. “It was.”

Jaebum looks coyly at him. “Any chance of it happening again?”

Jinyoung narrows his eyes. “Don’t push your luck,” he scolds, but without heat. And then Jaebum has the audacity to _pout_ at him! Jinyoung groans, runs his hand through his hair. His fringe doesn’t flop back down like it usually does — he really needs a shower.

“I don't know, maybe,” Jinyoung adds, which thankfully wipes the pout off Jaebum’s face. Except that it’s replaced by a puppy-dog grin, and that’s somehow even worse, the way it twists in Jinyoung’s chest. “Can we just — keep this on the down-low? While I figure out what to do with myself?”

Jaebum nods. “Of course,” he says. Still beaming happily at Jinyoung. It's stupidly endearing, and somehow, even despite the fact that they’ve now seen each other buck-ass naked and coming undone, it feels all of a sudden too intimate.

“Well, anyway — I'll see you later,” Jinyoung says. He doesn’t give Jaebum time to respond before he spins round on his heels and bolts out of the room.

The hallway he steps into is silent, and empty. Jinyoung heaves a sigh. Something's tugging at his heart, and he doesn't like it.

 

-

 

Jinyoung turns the door handle to Youngjae and Jackson's room with immense caution. Youngjae is, gratefully, an extremely heavy sleeper, but Jinyoung doesn't want to take any risks.

He pads silently into the dark room. Youngjae's a shapeless lump under the covers of one bed, snoring lightly. Jinyoung sinks down onto the other bed, presses his fingers against his temples.

Then there's a frantic knocking at the door. Jinyoung's head whips up in a panic.

“Wake up, you lazy asses!” Mark’s voice filters through the repeated banging fist against door. Youngjae doesn't move, shows not the slightest sign of having been disturbed.

But still, the knocking doesn't let up, and Jinyoung realises that Mark isn't going anywhere. He hurries to the door before even Mark gets loud enough to wake the dead — and Youngjae.

“What do you want?” hisses Jinyoung as he flings the door open.

Mark shoves past him unceremoniously. “About time,” he grumbles. Heads straight to Jackson's duffel bag, sitting open in the far corner of the room, starts rummaging through it.

Jinyoung casts a nervous glance at Youngjae, who is so perfectly still he might as well be a corpse. But Jinyoung doesn't want to risk it. He glares at the back of Mark's head. “Will you be quiet, please? You'll wake Youngjae.”

“Relax — nothing wakes Youngjae.”

This seems, for the moment, true enough. Jinyoung peers over Mark’s shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

“Condoms,” Mark replies breezily. “We ran out.”

“You _ran out_ of condoms?” repeats Jinyoung incredulously.

Mark shrugs. He unzips a side pocket, starts rooting around in it. “I only brought two,” he explains. “We looked in your bag but you didn't have any.”

“Why would I bring condoms to a team retreat?”

“You're the only person on this team who wouldn't,” Mark says. Jinyoung thinks back to the night before. He realises with a flush of his cheeks that Jaebum had come prepared. Wonders if Jaebum had had him in mind when packing, or if — like Mark's suggesting — everyone just brings things _just in case._

Mark grabs a small box out of the bag, hope to his feet triumphantly. Whirls round to Jinyoung. “Found them,” he declares, grinning. Then he pauses, eyes Jinyoung — still fully dressed, in his clothes from last night — and the perfectly made bed behind him. Jinyoung sees the moment it clicks in his head.

“Did you sleep here last night?” Mark asks, his eyes narrowed.

Jinyoung makes a feeble, strangled noise. “Perhaps not,” he supplies vaguely.

Mark gives him a firm shove on the shoulder. “You fucked someone last night!”

“Will you be quiet?” snaps Jinyoung. Youngjae shifts in his sleep, but shows no sign of being aware of what's going on around him.

Mark rolls his eyes, like Jinyoung's being paranoid, but he does lower his voice. “Who?” he whispers fiercely. A devious grin splits his face. “It was Jaebum, wasn’t it?”

Jinyoung doesn’t respond, just grimaces. It's enough for Mark, who lets out a snort of gleeful laughter.

“I knew it!” he cries out. “You horn-dog, you!”

“ _Shush!”_ Jinyoung glares at Mark. “Don't you have a Jackson to go for round three with?”

Mark hesitates, like he's actually considering giving up morning sex to interrogate his best friend. But he ultimately comes to his senses.

“We will discuss this,” he says, firmly. Jinyoung just makes a face at him, waves him away.

 

-

 

Mark doesn't give up. He drags Jinyoung onto the coach taking them back to the university, shoves him into the first row of seats. Everyone tends to sit near the back, so the front of the coach is definitely much more private.

But still. Not _that_ private.

“Can we not talk about this here?” hisses Jinyoung in annoyance. He looks up as Yugyeom and Bambam get on the train, shuffle down the aisle past them. The rest of the team are filing on sporadically.

Mark shushes him. “I’m not even using names,” he points out, as if that's the height of secrecy. “Now, will you answer the question? Is this a one time thing, or what?”

Jinyoung groans. “I don't know,” he whines. “Why can’t we talk about you and Jackson?”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about with me and Jackson, we banged, we might bang again, end of story,” says Mark, matter-of-factly. Jinyoung can sort of tell that’s not all there is to it, but before he can start formulating a plan to nudge the conversation in that direction, Mark’s already soldiering on.

“Never mind whether it’s going to happen again or not — do you _want_ it to?”

Jinyoung is about to deny everything, but he hesitates. He’s already slept with Jaebum. All the lines that he’s set for himself have been crossed. Why bother lying about it anymore?

“Maybe,” he says. “I don’t know.”

Mark beams at him. It exposes his sharp canines. He looks like the devil. A very handsome devil, but the devil nonetheless. “That must mean it was good,” he muses, tapping his chin. “It must have been good if you aren’t ruling out a repeat performance.”

Jinyoung glares at him. “The only thing I'm ruling out is my continued friendship with you.”

Mark flicks Jinyoung on the forehead, drawing an indignant yelp. “Don’t be evasive,” he scolds. “So, do you like him, or what?”

Jinyoung wriggles away from Mark, which is a feat in itself because he’s in the window seat and Mark is already crowding into his personal space. “Stop asking me questions I don’t know the answer to,” he grumbles. “I’m very confused, all I know is that something happened, and it wasn’t the worst thing that happened, but it also wasn’t something that I particular intended on happening, and — oh, hello!”

Jaebum’s just stepped onto the bus, and Jinyoung breaks off his sentence in a panic, desperately hoping that Jaebum hasn’t heard them or figured out what they’re talking about. He doesn’t look like he has, at least.

“Oh,” Jaebum says, when his gaze lands on Jinyoung. He sounds mildly startled to see Jinyoung. “Hello.”

Despite himself, Jinyoung feels his skin heat up from the mere fact of Jaebum looking at him. Hazy memories of the night before waft their way back to him. He forces an awkward smile.

Mark turns, looks up at Jaebum. Jinyoung can see the devilish grin on his face. “Why, hello, there.”

Jaebum clears his throat, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Jinyoung can’t help but notice the way the denim hugs his hips, his thighs. It sends a jolt of heat through him. Now is really not the time, Jinyoung grumbles inwardly.

“Good trip, guys?” Jaebum asks. He looks tremendously uncomfortable, but for some reason is refusing to just move on. He keeps _looking_ at Jinyoung — it’s making Jinyoung desperately fidgety, but he knows if he starts squirming Mark will never let him hear the end of it. So he tries to remain perfectly still, the very picture of nonchalance.

The grin on Mark’s face widens. “Better for some than others, I think,” he says, and by _god_ — Jinyoung hates him, he really does.

It’s not clear if Jaebum understands what Mark’s insinuating. Jinyoung sincerely hopes not, but then again, Mark’s not exactly being subtle. Mercifully, Jaebum does an excellent job of playing the unbothered leader role, and just murmurs something like “that’s good”, doesn’t rise to Mark’s bait.

But then he’s turning his attention away from Mark, and back to Jinyoung. “I, um—” he starts, hesitates. Jaebum’s usually so composed, at least in Jinyoung’s mind, that seeing him flustered sends shockwaves through his system. And they’re not unpleasant shockwaves, either.

His voice is low, and gentle. Almost like he’s speaking to Jinyoung alone. The world shrinks down around the two of them. “I’ll see you around?”

Jinyoung’s heart leaps into his throat. A tightness coils in his groin, even though Jaebum’s not doing anything other than _looking_ at him, for god’s sake! He swallows tightly, around the sudden dryness in his mouth.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “See you around.”

When Jaebum leaves, ambling down the aisle, his broad shoulders — the same ones that Jinyoung had been digging his teeth into last night — knocking into the seats as he passes, Mark turns slowly round to face Jinyoung with the most obnoxious grin plastered across his face.

Jinyoung levels him with a steely gaze. “Shut up,” he says.

Mark ignores him. “I feel like I need a cold shower now,” he teases. “I thought the two of you were going to jump each other.”

“No one is jumping anyone,” Jinyoung returns, tightly.

“The sexual tension!” crows Mark gleefully. “There’s no way you guys aren’t sleeping together again.”

Jinyoung grimaces. “Please,” he objects. “I have some self-control.”

“Do you?” Mark scoffs. “I give it a week.”

 

-

 

It takes less than a week.

What happens is that Jinyoung and Jaebum somehow find themselves alone in the showers after their first training session back, and then somehow find themselves making out like high schoolers, Jinyoung up on the counter with his legs wrapped around Jaebum’s hips. And Jinyoung really didn’t want to end up having sex in a public bathroom — which is the only reason why he invited Jaebum back to his place. That’s what he tells himself.

The next time it happens, it’s _not_ because Jinyoung was loitering around after training, intentionally taking ages to pack up his things. It’s just a coincidence that he and Jaebum end up the only ones left, and even more of a coincidence that they’re barely got their hands on each other before Jinyoung’s already suggesting they go back to his place.

All the subsequent times it happens, they skip the prelude, and Jinyoung just flat-out asks if Jaebum wants to go back to his. Jaebum invariably says yes.

They're sitting in Jinyoung's flat, at Jinyoung's table, one morning — Jaebum staying the night is a new thing, but Jaebum also makes him breakfast, so Jinyoung tells himself that's why he's going along with it — when Jaebum starts looking at Jinyoung curiously.

Jinyoung can feel the studious intensity of Jaebum's gaze on him. He ducks his head down, shovels scrambled eggs into his mouth. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jaebum says, but there's obviously something. Jinyoung puts his fork down, cocks his head at Jaebum. Waits for him to continue. Eventually, he does — “What are you doing tonight?”

Jinyoung quirks an eyebrow. “Are we scheduling our booty calls now?”

A flicker of _something_ — surprise, maybe — colours Jaebum's expression. But just for a split second, then it's gone.

“A new restaurant opened up, not far from here. Sungjin was telling us about It — apparently they do really good _galbitang,”_ he says, shrugging — like the thought's only just crossed his mind. “I thought we could give it a try. You know, before.”

Before the sex, he means. Jinyoung coughs a little awkwardly. “Like — a date?”

Jaebum licks his lips. Jinyoung watches his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “No,” he says, then pauses. “Maybe? It doesn't have to be anything. Just dinner.”

“Seems like a date to me.” Jinyoung focuses his attention back on his plate of food. Delicious breakfast food, cooked for him by this impossibly perfect boy sitting in front of him, gently asking for nothing more than a simple dinner. And yet, Jinyoung's finding it so incredibly difficult to say yes.

“If you don't want to, that's okay.” Jaebum actually sounds like he means it. “No pressure.”

Jinyoung feels his heart clench with guilt. He looks up at Jaebum. “No, I want to,” he says quickly, and it's true, he realises. He likes spending time with Jaebum, and not just for the sex, either. Jaebum's funny, and sweet, and even though they're so different, he really _gets_ Jinyoung. Really understands him, in a way that even Mark struggles with sometimes. He sighs, tries to parse his convoluted emotions and turn them into coherent sentences. “It's just — dinner seems a little, I don't know. Serious.”

Jaebum nods. “Okay,” he says, gently. “I understand.”

Jinyoung watches him across the table. Realises, all of a sudden, that he can see so much more of Jaebum's emotions scrawled across his face. He wonders if he's just getting to know Jaebum better, or if Jaebum is letting more of himself show in front of Jinyoung. Probably a bit of both.

In any case, he can see the disappointment, and maybe even a twinge of hurt, in Jaebum's eyes. In the way he looks down, into his own plate of food, sombre and silent.

“Let's not call it a date,” Jinyoung says abruptly. Jaebum looks up at him in surprise. “Let's just call it — two friends, getting food. Or maybe — I'm going to be there at seven tonight, and if you're coincidentally there as well — I wouldn't say no to sharing a table.”

Jaebum beams at him. It's so brilliant, so wondrously genuine and happy, that Jinyoung thinks it's all worth it. He hasn't the slightest idea what he's doing, but at the very least it's making Jaebum smile. Jinyoung could be okay with that.

 

-

 

“Tell me again how it's not a thing?” Mark leans back against Jinyoung's headboard, long legs stretched out across his bed. “How many times have you gone out for dinner together now?”

“Not that many,” replies Jinyoung sharply. “I'm not keeping count.” And he's not — not intentionally, at least. But — six times. They've gone out for dinner together six times. Tonight will be the seventh.

Mark hums like he doesn't believe Jinyoung. “You're dating, you know that, right?” he says. “What you're doing — it's dating.”

“No, it's not. It's just two friends, hanging out.”

“Yes, and going for dinner and having sex after,” points out Mark. “I don't know what you think dating is, because _that's it.”_

Jinyoung glares at him. “This is why I didn't want to let you come over.”

“If you'd just told me you were getting ready for a _date_ I would have left you alone.”

“No, you wouldn't have.”

“No, probably not,” Mark admits. He shrugs. “Are you ever going to tell anyone else?”

Jinyoung pulls a navy blue jumper out of his closet, tugs it over his head. “There's nothing to tell,” he says fiercely. And then immediately contradicts himself by adding, “But you better not have told Jackson.”

Mark puts his hands up in the air in surrender. “I know better than to disobey a direct order from Park Jinyoung,” he says — which isn't true in the slightest, Mark’s done the exact opposite of what Jinyoung's asked many times, but in this instance Jinyoung believes him. He knows that spreading this secret would be a betrayal of trust in the highest order.

Jinyoung looks at himself in the mirror, tousles his hair. He sees his chance to change the topic, and takes it. “Are you and Jackson dating for real now?”

“If by ‘dating for real’ you mean going for dinners and having sex after, then yes,” Mark replies coolly. Swinging the conversation back round to Jinyoung's refusal to concede that he and Jaebum are dating. “Your secret isn't going to stay a secret for long, though.”

Jinyoung whirls round. “Excuse me?”

Mark shrugs at him. “Jacks keep pointing out to me that you and Jaebum are always making sex eyes at each other. And I heard from Minhyuk that the juniors — Gyeom, Bam and Jungkook, in particular — have been speculating about you and Jaebum.”

“What? Why?” Jinyoung gapes at Mark.

“Because the two of you used to fight all the time, and now  you're just painfully awkward around each other,” says Mark, matter-of-factly. “The sexual tension is impossible to miss.”

Jinyoung groans and drags his hands down his face. “Nobody can know about this!”

Mark frowns at him. “I don't understand why you're so dead-set on keeping this a secret. It's been, what — two months? How is Jaebum still okay with this?”

“He's _okay_ with it because there's nothing to be _okay_ about,” says Jinyoung hotly. “We're just having sex, and nobody needs to know about our sex lives.”

“Or maybe, Jaebum is just impossibly tolerant,” Mark suggests. “For example, he apparently tolerates you wearing these boring blue jumpers on your dates.”

Jinyoung scowls at him. “First of all, it's not a date. And second of all, my jumpers are not boring!”

Mark makes a face. “Yes, they are.”

“Whatever.” Jinyoung appraises himself in the mirror. Sure, he doesn't look drop-dead sexy, but then again, he hasn't received any complaints (from anyone other than Mark). Nor have his safe fashion choices stopped Jaebum from jumping his bones, again and again. He smoothes down the front of his jumper. “Jaebum likes it.”

The reflection of Mark in the mirror smirks at Jinyoung. “Oh yeah,” he says, like he's won an argument Jinyoung wasn’t even aware they were having. “I bet he does.”

 

-

 

“I like your jumper.”

Jinyoung stops mid-way through pulling his coat on as they step out of the restaurant. Turns and looks at Jaebum with a triumphant grin. “Do you, now?” he asks, gleefully. “Mark said it was boring.”

A flicker of amusement crosses Jaebum’s face. “It's not the most exciting,” he says, slowly, as he steps out into the street after Jinyoung. “But it suits you.”

It takes a moment for his words to register in Jinyoung’s mind. When they do, the grin fades off Jinyoung's face.

“Are you calling me boring?” he yells, hurrying down the street after Jaebum. Gives Jaebum a vigorous shove on the shoulder to emphasise his displeasure at the insinuation.

Jaebum just laughs, stumbling slightly as Jinyoung pushes him. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, grinning. His eyes are bright, playful. “You're just about the least boring person I've ever met.”

Jinyoung pulls a face at Jaebum. “I'm not sure if that's a good thing,” he grumbles.

A beat of silence, then Jaebum’s letting out a small laugh, as if he's sharing an amusing thought with himself. He turns to look at Jinyoung. “It's definitely a good thing.”

The mood shifts so quickly that Jinyoung doesn't know what to do with himself. His face feels warm, even though the air is frightfully cold. He trains his eyes on the ground, keeps on walking. He can sense Jaebum walking along next to him — his mere presence is almost unbearably imposing even when he doesn't intend it to be.

“I like you, Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum says, softly.

Jinyoung attempts a light-hearted laugh. “You've said.”

But Jaebum is not to be deterred. “This thing we’re doing — what is it?”

“It is what it is,” replies Jinyoung vaguely. He can't bring himself to look at Jaebum. “Why does it need to be anything?”

Jaebum sighs heavily. Jinyoung can see his breath curling from his lips like smoke. “Fine,” he says. His voice is even, but maybe too even. Like he’s upset but trying not to be.

“Hey,” Jinyoung mumbles, but Jaebum ignores him, keeps walking. “Hey, Jaebum — hyung!”

It's only when Jinyoung reaches out, latches his hand onto Jaebum's wrist, that Jaebum stops. Turns to look at Jinyoung.

“It's fine, it really is,” Jaebum says quietly. His eyes, which were so full of energy and light just moments ago, are shielded now. Jinyoung hates it, hates that twisting feeling he gets in his gut when he sees that shuttered look in Jaebum's eyes.

“No, I just — labels are...whatever,” Jinyoung starts. Eloquent, he thinks. Well done. “And they scare me, because I still don't feel like I know what I’m doing. And I'm not, like — _ready._ ”

Jaebum looks at him like, _I knew all of this already._

Jinyoung purses his lips. “But this is good, what we have going on, you know? And I don’t know, I like spending time with you. Why do we have to _call_ it something?”

There's a moment of silence, then Jaebum raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you really responding to _‘I like you'_ with _‘I like spending time with you’?”_

Jinyoung blanches. It sounds bad when Jaebum puts it like that. “No,” he says hastily. “I mean, that’s what I said, but it’s not—“

He breaks off abruptly when he realises that Jaebum’s laughing. Narrows his eyes as realisation dawns on him. Jaebum was just teasing. And Jinyoung was, as always, rising to the bait.

“You’re an ass,” Jinyoung complains, but his voice has no kick to it, and he knows that. Settles for giving Jaebum yet another hearty shove, before striding haughtily down the street. Jaebum’s laugh, bright and clear as a bell, rings out after him. He hears Jaebum calling his name, jogging after him.

Then he feel a hand, large and warm and slightly calloused, slip into his own. Feels it tug him back.

Jinyoung turns, stumbles slightly into Jaebum’s chest.

“I was just teasing,” says Jaebum. He’s grinning a toothy grin. His eyes fold up into crescents. Affection swells up in Jinyoung. He can hear the thundering of his heart in his ears, tries to ignore how electricity crackles beneath his skin, all emanating from where his hand is enclosed in Jaebum’s.

“You’re mean,” Jinyoung says. His heart isn’t really in it. He sees Jaebum’s eyes flick down to his lips, and his heart jolts. He wants Jaebum to kiss him, he really does. Even though they’re standing on a street not far from campus, and anyone could see them. He isn’t really thinking about any of that. He just wants Jaebum to kiss him.

Jaebum does. Leans down, his hand still holding onto Jinyoung’s, pulling him close. Jinyoung’s eyes flutter closed.

The kiss is barely more than a brush of their lips together. It’s over before Jinyoung’s even realised it’s begun. When he opens his eyes, Jaebum’s right there, smiling fondly down at him. The moment is so affectionate, so soft and gentle, that Jinyoung loses all of his usual bravado. His eyes cast down, cheeks flushing. He feels like a teenager again.

“Come on,” breathes Jaebum, the smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Jaebum doesn’t release his hand. Just uses it to pull him along, the two of them wandering aimlessly down the street, the yellow glow of the street lights illuminating the darkness of the night. Jinyoung feels the corners of his lips tug upwards into a smile.

 

-

 

They’re a few streets away from Jinyoung’s apartment building, and Jaebum still has a firm grip on Jinyoung’s hand. It makes Jinyoung feel all fluttery inside, and he finds himself unwittingly letting out a giggle every so often.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, suddenly. He jerks his head in the direction of one of the restaurants further down the street from them. “Isn’t that Hyunwoo hyung?”

Jinyoung’s eyes dart over, latch onto two familiar figures, laughing, holding hands, and stepping out of a restaurant. Turning in their direction.

It’s Hyunwoo, and Minhyuk. On a date. Just like him and Jaebum.

Before he even registers what he’s doing, Jinyoung flings Jaebum’s hand out of his grip, so quickly and forcefully it’s like he’s chucking away something that’s scalded him. Jaebum turns to him in surprise, but Jinyoung’s already leapt out of sight, into the small alleyway between two of the buildings they’re passing. Ducks down behind a dumpster.

 _This is stupid,_ he thinks to himself, almost immediately. He has no reason to hide. He could just be on a friendly, completely platonic, outing with Jaebum. But he knows it’s a date — the reality of meeting another couple on a date has forced him to admit it.

He peeks out over the top of the dumpster. Hyunwoo and Minhyuk are visible in the small patch of street he can see — they’ve clearly spotted Jaebum, and have come up to him to have a chat. Jaebum’s nodding, and shrugging, and Jinyoung wishes he could hear them better, but he can’t.

Guilt twists in his stomach as he watches Jaebum, standing there by himself, abandoned by his horrible excuse for a date. But it’s too late for him to do anything about the fact that he’s clearly over-reacted. It would be far weirder for Jinyoung to suddenly emerge from behind a dumpster.

So he waits out the few excruciating minutes for Hyunwoo and Minhyuk to finish their small talk with Jaebum, waits until Jaebum turns and stares deep into the alleyway, beckons him out.

“Look — I’m sorry,” Jinyoung says, without prelude, as he slinks shamefully out of the shadows.

Jaebum’s smile, when he offers it, is tight. “It’s fine,” he says. “You want to keep things a secret, I understand.”

Jinyoung chews on his lower lip. “I just — I’m not ready for people to know. If people know, then this becomes a _thing,_ and I’m not ready for that.”

The smile on Jaebum’s face doesn’t falter in the slightest, and that’s maybe even more unnerving. “I get it,” he says, gently, but somehow — also coldly. “Let’s just go back to yours, okay? We don’t have to talk about it.”

For the first time, Jinyoung is the one who feels like they _do_ have to talk about it, like they definitely _should_ talk about it. But he can sense the tension radiating off Jaebum, can tell that the last thing Jaebum wants to do is to discuss whatever just happened. Maybe they can talk about it in the morning.

“Okay,” Jinyoung says. “Let’s go.” He forces a grin, as if everything is okay and nothing has changed. But the air between them feels different. Thicker. Harder to get through.

But there’s nothing more to be said, so they turn and continue making their way down the street. Headed in the same general direction they had been headed before.

This time, though, Jaebum doesn’t reach for Jinyoung’s hand.

Jinyoung tries not to pay attention to that fact. Tries to tell himself he doesn’t care.

But he does. He really, really does.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so incredibly busy at work this week that I don't even know how I managed to get this chapter out... but the story is itching to crawl its way out of me, so I've been writing during my commute -- a few hundred words on the way in to work, a few hundred words on the way home, and all of a sudden here we are!
> 
> also this is the penultimate chapter................ I can't even think about finishing this fic, I've gotten so attached..... so we're gonna do a jinyoung and bury our heads in the sand and pretend it's not happening ok thanks
> 
> please leave a kudo/comment to let me know what you thought! and come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Jinyoung stirs awake much earlier than he would typically like to be up on a weekend. His room is still dark, and still. He rolls over in bed, fully intending to just curl himself around Jaebum’s broad back — like he so often does when he wakes up in the middle of the night, just snuggle up for some warmth, that's all that is — but his arms reach out into emptiness. Flop feebly onto the bed.

Startled alert, Jinyoung opens his eyes properly. Pushes himself up onto his elbows.

“Jaebum?”

Jaebum is sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from Jinyoung, staring out the window. Or, he would be staring out the window, if the curtains weren't drawn. As it is, he's just staring at the heavy grey fabric blocking out the early morning light.

Jinyoung rubs at his eyes groggily. It can't be earlier than seven in the morning. “Hyung,” he mumbles, “are you okay?”

Jaebum angles his head back slightly. The hazy light illuminates the sharp planes of his profile. “Yeah, just — can't sleep.”

Jinyoung shuffles across the bed, until he's sitting right up behind Jaebum. Wraps his arms around Jaebum's waist, hooks his chin into the crook of his neck. Jaebum's sad, he can sense it. The heavy mood makes Jinyoung feel a dull ache behind his ribcage.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum starts, but then he trails off. He doesn't place his hands over Jinyoung’s, or crane round to kiss him, or even relax back into Jinyoung's embrace. None of the things he usually does. It's the last piece of evidence Jinyoung needs to be sure that something is wrong.

“Is this about last night?” he asks, quietly, lips moving against the side of Jaebum’s neck. About him hiding behind a dumpster rather than be recognised out in public with Jaebum.

Jaebum hesitates. “Maybe,” he says. “A little.”

Jinyoung tightens the grip of his arms around Jaebum. “I'm sorry,” he says, truthfully. He can see how what he did would have hurt Jaebum. But he also doesn't know if he would have done things all so differently, had he been given another chance. What he does know, though — “I didn't mean to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I know that,” Jaebum says. But it doesn't sound reassuring at all. It doesn't sound like that's enough. Jinyoung closes his eyes, breathes in the warm, smoky scent of Jaebum. Waits for the other shoe to fall.

He's expecting it, but still it feels like a cold slice through his heart when Jaebum speaks.

“It's not just last night, though. It's — everything.”

Jinyoung lets Jaebum prise his arms from around his waist, sits on the bed silently as Jaebum turns round to face him. The two of them, in the dull light of barely-morning, sitting cross-legged and face-to-face on Jinyoung's bed. It feels like an ending.

“I thought I could do this,” says Jaebum. His eyes are cast down, his fingers picking at a loose thread in the seam of his sweatpants. “I thought I could just be with you, without wanting to  _ be with you.” _

Jinyoung reaches out a hand, slips his fingers in through Jaebum's. “I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I'm really, really sorry.”

Jaebum offers him a small, bittersweet smile. There's no recrimination in it. “You don't have to apologise for how you feel.”

Maybe not, but Jinyoung can't help but feel that there’s  _ something  _ he needs to apologise for. He runs his thumb in slow circles across the back of Jaebum's hand.

“I do — I do have feelings for you,” Jinyoung admits. But it’s not enough, not for either of them. “I'm just — not ready. I need to, I don't know — feel like myself again.” 

He can't find the right words to explain how he feels. Guilt settles heavy in his gut. None of this is Jaebum’s fault, and he just needs Jaebum to know that. But he doesn't know if Jaebum will believe it if he can't explain who or what is at fault instead.

Jaebum looks at their interlaced hands. “I can't keep doing this,” he mumbles. Jinyoung can't believe how he had ever thought of Jaebum as cold and devoid of feeling. Jaebum’s the softest person he knows, with the most emotionally-rich inner world. It breaks Jinyoung to see just how much pain he's causing him.

“You shouldn't have to,” Jinyoung breathes, barely audible in the fragile air between them. He feels like any sudden movement or loud noise is liable to shatter them both. “I shouldn't have let it go on as long as it did.”

The faintest glimmer of a tear shimmers in the corner of Jaebum's eye. “I think — I think we should stop this.”

Jinyoung doesn't want to, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. The best thing, for both of them.

He watches as the tear rolls out of the corner of Jaebum's eye. Reaches up with his free hand, presses his thumb against Jaebum's cheek, and wipes the tear away.

“Maybe — if you feel differently, in the future…” Jaebum offers, hopefully.

But no, Jinyoung can't do that to him. “Maybe,” he says, “but you shouldn't wait for me. That's not fair to you.”

And Jaebum knows that's right, he does, because he just nods wordlessly. 

The hollow ache in Jinyoung's chest intensifies. He leans forward, presses a firm kiss against Jaebum's lips. It tastes like goodbye.

 

-

 

Mark thinks he's lost his mind.

“Why would you break-up with him? You obviously like him — what the hell is wrong with you?” he cries out. He's sat on Jinyoung's sofa, legs propped up on the coffee table, as Jinyoung gives him a debrief on how his pseudo-relationship with Jaebum had fizzled out.

Jinyoung grimaces. “I didn't break-up with him,” he grumbles. “Can't break-up if you were never technically together.”

Mark levels him with a scathing look. “Don't give me semantics, you fool,” he scolds. “If it wasn't a  _ real _ break-up, tell me why I was summoned here when I could have been having sex with Jackson?”

“Because you're a good friend,” replies Jinyoung firmly. “And I don't need to have gone through a break-up to be sad.”

Mark squints at him. “So you admit that you're sad?”

“I never denied being sad — of course I'm sad!”

“Then  _ why  _ did you break up with him?” Mark demands. A little more aggressively than necessary, Jinyoung thinks.

He rubs his hands across his face. “I don't know — I just didn't feel ready,” he explains feebly.

Mark gives him a withering look. “Ready for what, exactly? No one was asking you to marry him.”

Jinyoung pulls a face. “Ready for like — being a  _ couple,  _ and having to worry about someone else, and, I don't know, just — being part of a pair.” He sighs heavily, runs his fingers through his hair. Every time he tries to articulate how he feels, the words just crumble to dust before him. It's like trying to grab onto wisps of smoke. “I just want to focus on myself, for a bit.”

There's still a furrow in Mark’s brow, like he can't quite get what Jinyoung's getting at. “What does that mean? Focus on what?”

Jinyoung shrugs half-heartedly. “Swimming? Being a better person? My overall mental state?”

“I mean, fair enough,” Mark starts, but there's an evident twinge of doubt in his voice. “But why would Jaebum stop you from focusing on all of that? If anything, he's making you  _ better.” _

Something about this frustrates Jinyoung even more. He grinds his teeth together. There's a burning feeling mounting in his chest. “No, but that's not the point,” he grits out.

“But it is, isn't it?” Mark presses on. “You've been swimming so much better recently, because you're what? Happier? More relaxed? And you're just generally doing so much better than you were before — and that's all down to Jaebum, don't you think—”

“Do you think I don't fucking know that?” snaps Jinyoung, out of nowhere. He isn't where this sudden eruption of rage is coming from, but it sears him from the inside out. “Do you think I have no idea just how much better things have been since — since all of this  _ stuff _ with Jaebum?”

Mark looks taken aback, but — to his credit — he doesn't back down. Just meets Jinyoung’s gaze evenly, says, “Then what's the problem? If he's making you better — what's the problem?”

“The problem,” shouts Jinyoung, the words tumbling out of him without him even really registering what he's saying. He feels like he's about to vibrate out of his body. Everything is too much, too overwhelming, too insurmountable. 

“The problem is that I don't want to be better because of him, or because of anyone else!” Jinyoung cries out in frustration. “I want to be better because of  _ myself!” _

A long silence follows. 

Jinyoung curls in on himself, wraps his arms around his torso. His chest heaves with the effort of breathing, each inhale and exhale rattling in his bones. Tears burn at the backs of his eyes. He feels like — like somewhere along the way he’d gotten lost. And now he's found Jaebum, but he still hasn't found himself.

“I want to be better because of myself,” he repeats in a small voice. Squeezes his eyes shut and tries to hold himself together.

He feels Mark's arms wrap around him, slumps into the embrace.

Mark rubs soothing circles into Jinyoung's back. “I get it,” he murmurs against Jinyoung’s hair. “I get it.”

 

-

 

There’s a big competition in a month, and so Jinyoung focuses his energies — both mental and physical — on that. But also on himself. On his friends. On all the things he’d told himself he wanted to focus on.

He sees Jaebum, of course, during training — but they don’t speak unless it’s strictly necessary. There’s no hostility between them, but there’s a sort of bittersweet distance, a wall separating them, that Jinyoung doesn’t want to think too hard about.

So he occupies himself with swimming, just the way he likes it. But he also ends up sort of taking Yugyeom under his wing — Yugyeom, who’s now been promoted to lead freestyle sprinter, ever since Jinyoung’s reassignment to long distances. Jinyoung marvels at the fact that it’s taken him this long to realise that the poor kid is probably under a whole load of pressure, having the weight of such key events suddenly resting wholly on his shoulders. 

Jinyoung stands by the side of the pool, watching Yugyeom slice through the water. Pays close attention to his stroke so he can give him pointers on how to improve. Yugyeom has always been a good swimmer, but with Jinyoung’s dedicated coaching he’s improved stupendously over the past few weeks. He’s tall, and powerful — the perfect sprinter. He deserves this chance to shine.

“Well done,” Jinyoung calls out, as Yugyeom reaches the end of his lap, and pulls himself out of the water. “You could put a bit more rotation into your left side, but otherwise — you’re doing really well.”

Yugyeom nods seriously. “I’m nervous about the competition next week,” he admits. “I didn’t do so well in the last one.”

At least he didn’t faint, like Jinyoung did — but Jinyoung doesn’t mention this. Realises that it wouldn’t be helpful. But also that it’s not about him.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Jinyoung replies, giving him a firm nod. “As long as you do your best — the result doesn’t matter. You should be proud of yourself.”

Yugyeom beams at him happily, like a puppy that’s just been given a treat. “Thanks, hyung,” he mumbles. Then starts shaking his head wildly to dry it, spraying droplets of water everywhere. Jinyoung scrunches up his face in mock annoyance, gives Yugyeom a playful slap on the shoulder as he ducks out of the line of fire.

“Hey,” Jaebum’s voice stops Jinyoung in his tracks. He turns round to see Jaebum there, in his swim trunks and an oversized team sports jacket zipped up over his chest. Jinyoung tries not to remember all the times he’d dragged that zipper down and slid his hands underneath the material, palms flat on the taut muscle of Jaebum’s chest and stomach and shoulders.

“Uh,” Jinyoung says, trying to knock those thoughts out of his mind. “Hey.”

Next to him, Yugyeom lets out a small squeak and scuttles off.

Jaebum tousles his hair up awkwardly. “I just wanted to check how you were doing,” he says, and Jinyoung’s barely had the time to raise a questioning eyebrow, when Jaebum quickly adds, “With the swimming, I mean.”

Right. Of course. Just a team captain, checking on his team members the week before a big competition, to see how they’re getting on. Because why would Jaebum care how Jinyoung’s doing in his personal life? 

But the reminder that they’re now just teammates again, when they had once been close to being  _ something more _ — it presses down like a weight in Jinyoung’s chest.

He has no right to expect anything more, though, and so Jinyoung doesn’t. “I’m fine,” is all he says. And it’s true. About the swimming, but also about everything else. “A little nervous about the longer events, but that’s to be expected, since I’ve never competed in them before.”

Jaebum nods slowly, like he’s contemplating this. “It’ll be okay,” he says, firmly. 

“Yeah,” Jinyoung murmurs. “It will be.” And somehow — he believes it. He’s never done the fifteen-hundred metre event in a competition before — the last time, he’d managed to struggle through the four-hundred metres before fainting, and had missed out on the longer events. 

But fifteen-hundred metres is just thirty laps. Jinyoung’s done thirty, forty, fifty laps before, in training. Maybe not at top speed, but he’s done it. Like Jaebum said, the first time he’d told Jinyoung about the reassignment — Jinyoung doesn’t tire easily, and he likes to swim, likes to just get in the water and keep going, until he loses all sense of the world around him.

Jaebum smiles softly at him, and the expression in his eyes is so familiar, so intimate, that Jinyoung feels a part of himself being tugged forward into his orbit. He blinks, takes a small shuffle back. Clears his throat loudly.

“My timed runs have been good, lately,” he declares sharply, slicing through the thick tension between them. “Been improving my personal best, bit by bit.”

The softness is Jaebum’s eyes dissipates almost instantly. “Right,” he mumbles. “Good luck for next week, then.” And then he ambles away, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mark’s at his elbow almost instantly.

“Fun conversation?”

Jinyoung startles so hard he almost slips on the wet tiled floor. “Jesus christ,” he hisses. “Don’t creep up on me like that!”

Mark just gives him a no-nonsense eyebrow quirk. “What were you and Jaebum talking about?”

“The competition next week,” replies Jinyoung. Which is true, but somehow it still feels like a lie.

“Right — so why do you look so guilty?”

Jinyoung glares at his — incredibly annoying, incredibly perceptive — best friend. “I don’t look like anything,” he grumbles. “Aren’t best friends supposed to help you forget your ex? Not constantly ask you about them?”

Mark wrinkles up his nose. “Don’t call him your ex,” he says. “Makes it all sound like it’s in the past.”

“It  _ is  _ in the past,” says Jinyoung, rolling his eyes. But he knows he sounds unconvincing. He’s not convinced of that fact himself. At least, not from his end of things — who knows what Jaebum’s thinking? He might well have moved on — which, Jinyoung thinks, would probably be the smart thing to do, given how much of a disaster Jinyoung’s been.

Mark follows Jinyoung to the stands, hovers around him as Jinyoung grabs his water bottle and takes a long swig. “Do you still like him, though?”

Jinyoung shrugs. “Maybe,” he demurs. “I guess.”

His vague responses are clearly starting to annoy Mark. “It’s so stupid that you’re not together,” he grumbles. “He clearly still likes you too.”

Jinyoung makes a face. “You don’t know that.”

“I know that,” retorts Mark.

“How could you possibly know that?”

Mark frowns at him. “Sungjin was trying to set Jaebum up with Suji, apparently,” he explains. “And Jaebum said that he wasn’t interested.”

Jinyoung’s heart thumps violently in his chest. He leans back on his hands, tries not to let his sudden nerves show. “He doesn’t have to like me to be not interested in someone else,” he says flatly. “And who the hell is Suji?”

“Yes, but he said that he was still hung up over someone else,” Mark continues, ignoring Jinyoung’s question about Suji. Whatever — it’s not important anyway. Jinyoung focuses his attention on Mark, who’s now prodding a finger in his chest, quite painfully. “That someone else — that’s  _ you!” _

Jinyoung swats Mark’s hand away. “Stop it.”

And Mark’s not Jinyoung’s best friend for nothing, because he immediately notices the change in tone. Sighs heavily, sits down next to Jinyoung. “I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his head against Jinyoung’s shoulder. “I just — want you to be happy.”

Jinyoung leans his cheek against the top of Mark’s head. “I  _ am  _ happy,” he says, and he’s not lying. He’s happier than he’s been in a long time, and in a more settled kind of way. Like he’s actually comfortable in his own skin.

Mark hums. He gets it, sort of, but he also sort of doesn’t. “Do you not miss him?”

A good question. Jinyoung exhales, long and slow, as he considers it. “I do, I guess,” he murmurs. Not just the sex, but just being able to  _ be with  _ Jaebum. It was easy, being with Jaebum. Like Jinyoung didn’t need to pretend to be anything other than who he was. But also — the simple things, like the fact that Jaebum would stop to pet every single cat they walked past on the street, or the bewildered look he sometimes got on his face when Jinyoung made a slightly off-colour joke, or how he clapped his hands together like a seal whenever his food arrived at restaurants.

But, at the same time — “I can miss him, and still be happy, you know.”

Mark wriggles away from Jinyoung, pulls his long legs up onto the seat next to him, so that he’s facing Jinyoung. “I know that,” he says, “I just — I want you to be the happiest you could possibly be.”

Jinyoung grins, reaches over to pinch Mark’s cheek. Mark pouts, but doesn’t try to get away. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Jinyoung says. “Maybe I’ll do something about it — just not right now.”

Mark nods, still pouting, as if he’s the younger one, taking instructions from his hyung. “Of course,” he mumbles. Winds his arm around Jinyoung’s waist, hooks rests his chin on Jinyoung’s shoulder. “I support you, no matter what you do.”

What does he want to do? Jinyoung has no idea. All he knows is — one thing at a time. 

One thing at a time.

 

-

 

The day of the competition rolls round, finally. Jinyoung’s buzzing with energy, but in a good way. He’d gone to bed early the night before, and he feels well-rested and ready to go. Excited, even, to see what he can do.

It’s one of the biggest competitions of the season, and the huge hall is electric with anticipation. Jinyoung doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, between warm-up laps and stretching and giving Yugyeom regular pep talks. He perches on the bleachers, watches his teammates chatting excitedly and scurrying about as the announcers start calling for swimmers to report for various events.

Jaebum’s there, head bowed, discussing something with Hyunwoo. His brow is furrowed, nodding periodically as Hyunwoo speaks. The outgoing team captain and the incoming team captain. Jinyoung can’t quite help the fond smile that creeps onto his lips.

“You look pleased with yourself,” says Mark, hopping over the pile of swim bags to drop into the seat next to Jinyoung. He gives Jinyoung a playful nudge. “Not nervous?”

Jinyoung cocks his head to one side. “You know what I just realised?”

Mark makes a murmuring noise that Jinyoung takes to mean, ‘ _ no, tell me’. _ So he does.

“This is the competition, the same one as last year, where Jaebum first swam the fifty free,” Jinyoung says. It’s weird how time passes, and things change. Or maybe it’s not weird at all, it’s perfectly ordinary. Jinyoung watches as Jaebum sweeps his fringe back from his hair absentmindedly, like he does when he’s deep in thought. Like he’s always done, for as long as Jinyoung has known him. That hasn’t changed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” agrees Mark. “I remember playing rock paper scissors with Jackson for who had to break the news to you.” He chuckles under his breath. “You were so mad.”

Jinyoung grins at the memory. It feels like a distant shadow of a past self. “I was mad about a lot of things, a lot of the time,” he concedes. This draws a low laugh from Mark.

“I was angry because we were both swimming the fifty free,” continues Jinyoung, just musing aloud now, “and now, a year later — neither of us is swimming the fifty free.”

Mark hums in acknowledgement. “You were also enemies last year,” he adds. “And this year—” He trails off. The silence that settles around them isn’t tense, or uncomfortable. It’s just — slightly pregnant with unspoken words.

Jinyoung stretches his arms over his head. Hyunwoo’s walked away from Jaebum now, left Jaebum standing by himself, looking out over the competition pool. The announcer’s voice booms out through the hall — swimmers entering the two-hundred metre butterfly event are to report to the holding area.

“I’m going to go wish him good luck,” Jinyoung says, abruptly, getting to his feet. Mark blinks up at him. “You know — as friends.”

This is a display of maturity and emotional control that Jinyoung knows Mark is surprised to see from him. He casts Mark a cheery grin as he takes the steps down the bleachers two at a time, strides across the tiled floor to come to a stop next to Jaebum.

“Jaebum hyung,” he says.

When Jaebum turns, he looks surprised. Like he would never have expected Jinyoung to come up to him. “Jinyoung-ah,” he says. The nickname settles warm in Jinyoung’s chest.

“Good luck,” Jinyoung says. Not that Jaebum needs it, but Jinyoung’s come to realise that everyone needs it — not the luck itself, but hearing that someone else wants the best for you. He looks evenly at Jaebum, into those deep, expressive eyes. “I’m rooting for you.”

Jaebum’s face relaxes into an easy, friendly smile. “Thanks,” he mumbles, looking a little sheepish. “I’m — good luck to you, too.” 

Jinyoung nods at him, waves him away as the announcer makes yet another announcement for the swimmers to assemble. He watches as Jaebum gets instructions from the meet organisers, takes his place on one of the central starting blocks.

His eyes never leave Jaebum, even as the starting pistol fires, even as the swimmers plunge into the water in eight perfect arcs, like dolphins cresting the ocean’s surface. He can feel the smile tugging at his lips as he watches Jaebum slicing through the water, muscles rippling like waves, arms rising with each powerful stroke, like an eagle’s wings.

He follows Jaebum as he does one lap, then two, then three, and then finally — the last powerful push, his arm reaching out to touch the opposite wall. It’s only then that Jinyoung releases the breath he didn’t even realise he was holding.

Jaebum wins. The times and ranks flash up on screen, Jaebum treading water and peering up to see how he’s done. Jinyoung feels almost delirious with happiness, glowing with pride. He whirls round, looking for someone — anyone — to share the celebration with.

Jackson’s standing there, fist pumping in the air excitedly. 

“He won!” shouts Jinyoung. “He won!” It’s not a massive surprise, but it was a close margin — there are a lot of excellent butterfly swimmers out there — and Jinyoung feels wild with delight.

“You look happy,” teases Jackson, as Jinyoung grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him vigorously.

Jinyoung coughs, a little self-consciously, and releases Jackson. “He deserves it,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

But Jackson just grins, nudges him gently. “It’s nice, isn’t it,” he murmurs, contemplatively. Not so much teasing as just — sharing a moment. “I think I feel happier when Mark does well than when I do well.”

“What?” Jinyoung gapes at him.

Jackson shrugs. His eyes are bright with cheer. “Don’t tell Mark I said that, he’ll say I’m being sappy,” he whispers conspiratorially. “But that’s the best part about being with someone, I think — doubling your joy.”

Jinyoung turns back to the pool, watches as Jaebum climbs out of the water. He’s grinning as he pushes his wet hair out of his face, and he looks so wondrously proud of himself. When he looks over at Jinyoung, and their eyes meet — Jaebum’s smile widens even further, like a beacon calling to Jinyoung. 

Something inside Jinyoung’s heart — it lights up.

 

-

 

Jinyoung wants to congratulate Jaebum, but there isn’t time, he’s already being summoned over to get ready for his own event. It’s the longest one he has, the longest one he’s ever done in a competition — fifteen hundred metres.

But he’s not afraid. It surprises even himself, that the energy sparking electric within him is all excitement, and anticipation, and an eagerness to go out there and give it his all. 

He lets everything else go, empties his mind as he climbs onto the starting block. His eyes focus on the cool blue of the water beneath him. He knows how to do this. 

The starting pistol fires, and he doesn’t even need to think — his body just launches itself off the starting block, slices like an arrow straight through the surface of the water. Once he plunges beneath the surface, the world goes silent. All that’s left is the rush of his own blood in his ears, a thundering roar that spurs him on.

He crests the surface for his first breath, arms carving their perfect arcs through the air and the water. There’s a part of him that wants to push himself as hard as he possibly can, push himself to beyond the point of breaking — but he holds himself back. Reminds himself that he still has a long way to go. 

His muscles burn with the exertion, but just enough, not too much — Jinyoung recognises this ache, the one that’s almost pleasurable, because of how perfectly it sits between not feeling like he’s challenging himself, and feeling completely overwhelmed. He’s gone past the sweet spot before, and he knows his own limits.

When he reaches the opposite wall, it doesn’t feel like he’s pushing off it — it feels like the wall it moving away from him. He rockets back in the direction from which he’d come, his mind focuses solely on the next stroke, the next kick of his feet, the next breath. No space for thinking about how much further he has to go. Just — one thing at a time.

This is what he loves about swimming, he realises. Especially long-distance swimming. It’s why he trains the way he does, not in short sprints but in gruelling endurance sets. Somewhere along the way, maybe around the eighth lap, he longer needs to expend any effort to switch his brain off. His mind relaxes into the silence and the sensation of being buoyed by water all around him. 

For those seemingly endless laps, Jinyoung doesn’t need to think or feel or question anything. He just swims.

And the more he swims, the less his lungs and muscles ache. It’s like he crosses into a realm where he’s discovered a new part of himself, a part that can surmount any challenge in his way. And he is dimly aware of himself almost speeding up — or maybe that’s just an illusion, because of how time fades away when Jinyoung’s in the water.

Either way, Jinyoung suddenly realises he’s on his last lap, and he’s got to give it everything he’s got — not for the competition, or for Jaebum, or Mark, or whoever. Just for himself. He wants to do it for himself. 

So he tunes back into his body, feels the fire coursing through his limbs, his lungs, revels in it. Lets it burn, hard and fierce and strong, like a furnace fuelling him, propelling him forward.

Then his hand touches the wall, and Jinyoung rips himself up through the water surface. It’s over. Sight and sound and sensation come crashing back to him. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s one of the first ones to finish, but he can’t even bring himself to care. 

Jinyoung’s eyes search for his teammates. Mark’s there, and Jackson, and Hyunwoo, and Yugyeom, and all the others. They all have their eyes glued to the screens, waiting for the results to come up. 

But Jinyoung’s only looking for one person.

Jaebum’s there too, standing at the edge of the group, a little away from the rest of them. But he’s not looking at the screen. His eyes are trained on Jinyoung.

When their eyes meet, a jolt of blinding joy shoots through Jinyoung. He can see the happiness, the pride, scrawled all across Jaebum’s face. And he’s sure that Jaebum can see it on his own as well. His cheeks are starting to ache as much as his limbs, from grinning so broadly. Just watching Jaebum watching him — Jinyoung feels like he’s actually on fire. His mind and body both ablaze with the frenzy of a sudden epiphany.

Jinyoung still doesn’t know if the results have come up on screen, just swims to the side of the pool, clambers out. Drips water all over the damn place as he walks over to Jaebum. His ears are ringing, his vision tunnelled in on Jaebum and Jaebum’s beautiful, wonderful smile, bursting with affection.

“Good job,” says Jaebum, as Jinyoung approaches. Jinyoung isn’t sure either of them have blinked. 

“You don’t even know how I did yet,” Jinyoung replies. His heart is pounding a thundering rhythm against his ribs, straining its way out of his chest.

Jaebum grins lopsidedly at him, shrugs. “Good job,” he repeats.

And then Jinyoung places his hands on the sides of Jaebum’s face, and kisses him.

Jaebum’s lips are soft, like Jinyoung remembers, and slightly cool to the touch. He can feel Jaebum smiling into the kiss, and he can’t help but feel his own lips tugged upwards in fondness. Jaebum has his hands on his hips now, and Jinyoung lets out a gentle yelp of surprise when Jaebum drags him close. 

Their bodies are pressed up against each other, Jaebum’s skin warm and wet beneath Jinyoung’s hands. He licks his tongue along Jaebum’s lips, lets out a small giggle when Jaebum sucks it into his mouth. He feels, rather than hears, the low rumble of Jaebum’s chuckle in his chest.

When they break apart, Jinyoung is panting, and not just from the thirty laps he’d just swum. Jaebum’s eyes are sparkling, and Jinyoung thinks it’s the most stupidly beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

That’s when, from right beside them, Jackson lets out a ear-splitting whoop.

Jinyoung turns, and the entire swim team is standing right there, staring at them, mouths agape. Except for Mark, who has his arms folded and is smirking knowingly at Jinyoung.

“Fucking finally!” Jackson shrieks, and that opens the floodgates. Bambam starts cheering and clapping, Yugyeom lets out a few hoots of delight. Jackson plants his hands on Jinyoung’s shoulders and shakes him about so hard that he feels his brain rattling about in his skull. Even Hyunwoo is there, beaming like a proud father, while Minhyuk hangs off him, cooing at how adorable this all is. Jinyoung can feel the blush rising to his cheeks, ducks his head down at hides his face in Jaebum’s chest.

Mark slips his way past the enthusiastically congratulating crowd, slings one arm around Jinyoung and tugs him out of Jaebum’s arms. “Also,” he says, leaning in towards Jinyoung, “you won, by the way.”

And of course — Jinyoung’s just finished an event, he’d completely forgotten about it. Jaebum’s head whips up at the same time Jinyoung whirls round, to check the screen.

Up there, in bright orange letters, is his name — Park Jinyoung. First place. 

“Look,” Jaebum whispers, leaning down. He curls his arms around Jinyoung’s waist, presses his chest against Jinyoung’s back. “The time.”

Jinyoung’s mind is reeling, but he focuses on the numbers, tries to see what Jaebum is seeing. And then he gets it — it’s faster than he’s ever swum that distance before. It’s a new personal best for him. The realisation swells up in Jinyoung’s chest like a waves about to crash down upon the shore. He can feel the tears prickling at the backs of his eyes.

The rest of the team have sort of dispersed now, sporadically cheering about the kiss, or Jinyoung’s win, or just heading off to get ready for their own events. Jinyoung twists round in Jaebum’s arms, looks up at him.

“Sorry I kissed you,” he says, a little sheepishly now that the high has worn off slightly. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Jaebum just grins. “That’s okay,” he mumbles, his voice deep and low and only loud enough for Jinyoung to hear. “I was hoping you’d make a move.”

Jinyoung pouts at him. “I told you not to wait for me,” he grumbles.

“Not waiting,” replies Jaebum, eyes twinkling with mischief. “ _ Hoping.” _

Despite himself, Jinyoung beams. He’s too delirious with happiness. “Sorry I was an idiot.”

Jaebum shakes his head. Uses one hand to sweep the wet strands of Jinyoung’s hair off his face. The other hand is still wrapped around Jinyoung’s waist. “Not an idiot,” he says, the smile evident in his voice even if it wasn’t plastered across his face. 

“Do you still like me?”

When Jaebum grins, and nods, Jinyoung thinks he wants to let out a yell of happiness. But he doesn’t just basks in the adoration pouring out of Jaebum’s eyes. “Of course I still like you,” Jaebum says, like it’s a stupid question. He cups Jinyoung’s face, swipes the pad of his thumb across his cheek in a gentle caress. “I’m really proud of you.”

Jinyoung tries unsuccessfully to bite down the smile that wants to reach all the way up into his ears. His heart is a fluttery explosion.

“You know what?” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side, still looking intently up at Jaebum. “I’m proud of me too.”

And then he flings his arms around Jaebum’s neck, and kisses him again.

 

-

 

Jinyoung sits at the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the water. 

The juniors are doing sprint laps, which means the seniors get to take a break. He eyes trail after Yugyeom as he rockets through the water. The kid’s well on his way to becoming a real freestyle powerhouse.

How things change, Jinyoung thinks. He’s a fourth-year now. Hyunwoo’s graduated, Mark and Jackson are going out for real. Jaebum’s captain. And his  _ boyfriend.  _ The thought brings a smile to his lips.

“Get in or get out, Park,” comes Jaebum’s voice, scolding, but also teasing. Jinyoung looks up to see Jaebum standing next to him, gesturing for him to get up out of the pool. 

“Hyunwoo hyung was never this strict,” complains Jinyoung, but he climbs to his feet obligingly. “You’re a real hard-nosed captain, you know that.”

Jaebum just grins at him, tugs him in for a kiss. Jinyoung laughs as he nips lightly at Jaebum’s bottom lip, his hands flying up to press against the firmness of Jaebum’s chest.

“Dinner tonight?” Jaebum asks. “I’ll cook.”

Jinyoung nods eagerly. “Sounds good,” he says, leaning up to peck Jaebum on the cheek. “I’ll get some wine.”

“Hey lovebirds, stop smooching for a second, and come take a look at this for me!” shouts Jackson from somewhere behind Jaebum. Jinyoung peers over Jaebum’s shoulder, to see Jackson waving a stack of papers. “Designs for the new team jackets!” he yells.

Jaebum rolls his eyes good-naturedly, releasing Jinyoung and turning to Jackson. “And this couldn’t wait for  _ one  _ second?” he asks.

Jackson shrugs, a shit-eating grin to rival Mark’s plastered across his face. The two of them are becoming more and more like each other, Jinyoung thinks, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.

“I didn’t know how long you were planning on sucking face for,” Jackson replies, shoving the stack of papers in Jaebum’s face as he leads him off towards the bleachers to approve the designs. “Sometimes you go on for  _ ages…” _

Jinyoung wanders over to Mark. “You need to control your man,” he says.

Mark doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned, just slings his arm across Jinyoung’s shoulder. “No one controls Jackson,” he says. “Except in the bedroom, then he’s my bitch.”

“I did  _ not  _ need to know that,” objects Jinyoung, shrugging Mark off. Mark just laughs, clearly delighted at having grossed Jinyoung out, and shuffles over to where Jaebum and Jackson have their heads bent, poring over the new designs.

Jinyoung turns his attention back to the pool. Yugyeom’s just gotten out of the water. He rakes his hand through his hair in evident frustration. Bambam’s standing next to him, places one appeasing hand on his shoulder. But Yugyeom just shakes it off, storms away and plonks himself down on the bleaches, as far from everyone else as he can. Rests his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands.

“Hey kiddo,” greets Jinyoung, walking over. He takes a seat next to Yugyeom. “What’s up?”

Yugyeom looks up at Jinyoung grumpily. “Nothing,” he says. Then pauses. Heaves a sigh. “I’ve hit a wall. Can’t get any faster.”

Jinyoung hums in acknowledgement. “Happens to all of us,” he says, then waits to see how Yugyeom will respond.

What Yugyeom does is let out a huff of frustration. “Doesn’t seem like it happens to anyone else,” he says. There’s a edge to his voice, one that Jinyoung recognises. “It’s so fucking frustrating, and everyone tells me I’m doing great, but I’m  _ not.” _

Jinyoung nods. “By everyone, do you mean — Bambam?”

Yugyeom exhales sharply. “He means well, I know he does,” he says. “But he’s so fucking talented, and he just keeps getting better and better, and it all seems so easy for him.” Yugyeom groans, rubs his hands across his face, mumbles his next sentence into his palms. “And he’s my best friend, which makes it so shitty because I’m like — how can I be  _ jealous _ of my best friend?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung breathes. He places a hand on Yugyeom’s back, pats him gently. “I get it.”

Yugyeom lets out another anguished moan into his hands. “And we live together so he’s there all the time, he’s supposed to be my best friend, but he’s so pretty, and every time I look at him I just—” Yugyeom breaks off suddenly, looks at Jinyoung in a panic. Like he hadn’t meant to say all of that. 

Jinyoung smiles lightly. “It’s okay,” he says. “I really do get it. And I know you won’t right now, but try to believe me when I say it’s going to be okay.”

Yugyeom stares despondently at Jinyoung. “How do you know that, hyung?”

Jinyoung wraps his arm around Yugyeom, tugs him in close. “I just do,” he says. “You’re a good kid, you know? Even though I like to give you hell. I admire a lot of things about you, and I’m sure Bambam does as well. Just go talk to him, okay?”

They both look over to where Bambam is sitting, talking to Jungkook — he keeps glancing over at them warily. Yugyeom nods firmly. “Okay,” he says. Gets to his feet abruptly, turns back to smile at Jinyoung. He looks determined. “Thanks, hyung.” 

Jinyoung waves him away, watches as Yugyeom strides over to Bambam with his long legs. Jungkook slinks away once he sees Yugyeom approaching, to give the two of them a little bit of privacy to talk. He smiles when he sees Bambam throwing himself into Yugyeom’s arms for a hug. Whatever’s going on there, he knows they’re going to be okay.

His gaze sweeps across the room, comes to rest where Jaebum is now standing, by the pool, hands on his hips, watching some of the other juniors swim. He seems to feel Jinyoung’s gaze on him, because he suddenly turns around, looks up into the bleachers until he spots Jinyoung. Gives him a bright, toothy smile, and a wave. Jinyoung chuckles softly to himself, and waves back. Jaebum looks stupidly pleased with himself as he turns his attention back to the pool.

Jinyoung leans back on his hands, looks down on this little universe he’s created for himself. 

He watches as Jackson says something to Jaebum that makes them both break out in hysterical laughter. Watches Yugyeom and Bambam huddled in a corner with Jungkook, probably up to no good. Watches Youngjae and Mark giving pointers to some of the first-years who have just joined the team. Watches Sungjin and Brian bickering over what seems to be a pair of goggles, while Minhyuk tries feebly to mediate.

He breathes in the familiar, and now comforting, faint scent of chlorine. Feels the cool tile beneath his feet, and the wetness of the air on his skin.

This is his world, and he exists in it.

Sometimes, Jinyoung thinks, not everything needs to be sink or swim.

Sometimes, it’s okay to just — float.

 

-

 

Fin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe this is over...... writing this fic has been such an emotional journey for me, in large part because the more I wrote the more I ended up pouring myself and my own anxieties into jinyoung's character. what started as a short, light-hearted jjp swim au, has now turned into something much more emotional and person that I'd intended. but I'm really glad I got to create this meditation on self-worth and self-love and learning how to be okay with yourself -- I'm still going through that very same journey and I know many of you will be too. and if so, I hope this spoke to you and/or helped you in some way! 
> 
> all of that aside, I also had tons of fun writing this! and I learnt a lot of random stuff from immersing (haha, pun) myself into the swim world, which is always enjoyable. plus I so often rely on jealousy to create romantic drama in my stories, that it was nice to write something -- albeit unintentionally, I didn't set out not to use jealousy -- that didn't involve external conflicts, only internal ones (aka jinyoung being a Hot Mess).
> 
> also I wanted to thank everyone who has been reading this fic and been along for the journey, and especially all of you who leave wonderfully detailed comments -- it is so inspiring to see how people react to the characters I create! it was especially interesting to see how divided opinions could be -- some of you would be yelling at jinyoung in the same chapter as others were calling him a poor baby. which just goes to show that everything is multi-faceted and whether or not we can empathise with people/characters often depends on where we are coming from. especially big thanks to the lovely [chris](https://twitter.com/defuwu), whose enthusiasm for this fic has gotten me through many a writer's block and/or jinyoung-esque pit of "everything I touch turns to shit" -- thanks chris!
> 
> sorry for the endless rambling, I'm just INCREDIBLY EMOTIONAL about finally finishing sink or swim. before you ask, there probably won't be an epilogue -- I feel like the story wraps up nicely where I left it, and the last scene is kinda like an epilogue anyway. but you know, never say never! definitely not in the near future, though. probably no more Big Fic in the near future either, though I will probably dabble in one-shots, as I do.
> 
> PLEASE leave me a comment to let me know what you thought of the ending and the fic in general! I really really really want to hear your thoughts :) and of course, you can come talk to me @notionxally on twitter or cc
> 
> all the love, 
> 
> ally


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